


Aught But Death

by starrynightshade



Series: Shadowhunter AU [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Jemma and Lance are siblings, Parabatai, Romance, Shadowhunter AU, The Mortal Instruments AU, Trip and Ward are bros, Vampires, season 1 skyeward dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynightshade/pseuds/starrynightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can you see me?” She’d asked incredulously, looking him up and down.</p><p>That was a tricky question for sure, because Fitz had spent most of his life pointing out strange things that nobody else could seem to see, but this girl didn’t look strange at all. “Of course I can see you. Why? Am I not supposed to?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.” - C.S Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no idea where the idea for this came from, but here it is: the Agents of SHIELD Shadowhunter AU. I plan to update on Wednesdays, but this first chapter is being posted today in celebration of AthenaMay24's birthday. If you're able, please go check her out on FF.net and shower her with birthday wishes!

The photograph was old and faded, with slight wrinkles around the edges that Fitz had tried time and time again to smooth away. Still, he kept it on proud display in a thin black frame on his desk. After all, it had been taken on the happiest day of his life and he loved the way that Jemma was smiling in it. The two of them looked like they had just won the lottery.  
  
He figured that, in a way, they had. Because what were the odds that he and his mum would be in London the same day that the head of the London Institute decided to teach his daughter how to use a glamour, and that they would both wind up in the same park, and that he would wave directly at her?  
  
“Can you see me?” She’d asked incredulously, looking him up and down.  
  
That was a tricky question for sure, because Fitz had spent most of his life pointing out strange things that nobody else could seem to see, but this girl didn’t look strange at all. “Of course I can see you. Why? Am I not supposed to?”  
  
The next several hours had been a flurry of commotion, but eventually his mother was convinced to let him stay and pursue his calling as a Shadowhunter. They had commemorated the day with a picture of the two of them standing side by side on the steps of the Institute, both smiling at the prospect of a newfound friend.  
  
“Are you even listening?” Jemma’s voice yanked him out of the pleasant reverie.  
  
“Sorry.” He said, returning his attention to the blueprints on the desk. “Lost my train of thought.”  
  
She heaved a delicate sigh before picking up the papers and flipping through the notes he had scrawled down. “I was saying that deoxygenating the cartridges may be a viable solution, but I can’t be certain how the concentration will alter the effectiveness of the holy water.”  
  
They’d started work on the holy water gun in the first week of October, just over a month ago, and while the idea was promising, the prototype was proving less effective than they had hoped. Bobbi had said they were overthinking it and suggested just filling a squirt gun with holy water, but this would be much more accurate and far easier to reload. Fitz could tell that they were on the verge of a breakthrough though, and was about to suggest adjusting the delivery mechanism when the door burst open.  
  
“Simmons, we need you in the infirmary now. It’s Skye.” Trip said before leaving as quickly as he’d come.  
  
“What happened?” Fitz asked as the two of them followed Trip down the long and winding halls. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know where they were going — they had been conducting their research at the D.C. Institute for two years now — but Trip had a very long stride and it was only exacerbated by his current concern for the Institute’s newest member.  
  
“Hydra demon.” He explained. “She took two bites to the abdomen before Ward and I could kill the damn thing.  
  
Next to him Jemma was pulling her hair into a ponytail. “How long ago?”  
  
“Almost twenty five minutes.”  
  
She fished around in her pocket for her steele as Trip opened the doors to the infirmary, and Fitz could’ve sworn he heard a mumbled “bloody hell” fly from her lips before Ward’s voice drowned out everything else.  
  
“— did you think you were doing, Rookie? You can’t just go bursting in without a plan like that and hope for the best!”  
  
Skye’s only response was to wince through another shallow breath while the venom oozing from her wound dripped slowly onto her cot.  
  
“You can be helpful, or be quiet.” Simmons clipped, shifting seamlessly into medical mode as Ward snapped his mouth shut. Apparently he’d decided on being helpful. “I need a water basin and a stack of washcloths.” She said, and immediately Trip and Ward were off to meet her demands. She pushed the hem of Skye’s shirt up, carefully revealing two U-shaped wounds that wrapped around her abdomen just above her hip bone and Fitz nearly lost his lunch at the sight. Each puncture mark was jagged and uneven, dripping a grisly mixture of blood and dark green venom.  
  
“Why don’t you go get Coulson?” Jemma asked, sensing his discomfort. As much as he wanted to be there to support Skye and to help Simmons, he didn’t think he’d be of much use to either of them if he was vomiting everywhere.  
  
By the time he returned with Coulson and the group’s tutor, May, Skye was doing significantly better. Apparently she was even well enough that Jemma had allowed Ward to resume his lecturing.  
  
“— completely irresponsible.” He was saying as he paced between the rows of beds. “You’re lucky there weren’t any mundies around or we’d be really screwed.”  
  
“Alright Grant, that’s enough.” Coulson said, adding himself to the small crowd that had gathered around Skye’s bed.  
  
“Are you here to yell at me too?” She asked as Trip tried to quell her fever and Jemma drew more venom from the puncture marks above her hip bone.  
  
Coulson took a deep breath, apparently deciding to take pity on the girl. “No, I’m not here to yell at you. I think all the main points have been covered.” He said, glancing pointedly at Ward.  
  
“You got lucky.” Jemma told her. “If it had been any worse we would have had to call Raina.” Asking the local warlock for help was always an ordeal. On top being expensive, Raina was a relentless flirt with a slight flair for the dramatic, always speaking in riddles.  
  
Skye’s pale lips pulled up into a smirk. “On the bright side, this scar is gonna be totally badass, right?” Unlike most of the Institute’s other inhabitants, the fifteen year old had very few scars on her body, save for a few faded runes on her arms and shoulders.  
  
“It’ll be ‘totally badass’ if it doesn’t get infected.” Simmons scolded, checking on the wound again. It looked clean, but Fitz knew that demon venom could affect someone for days after their initial encounter with it. “You should be more careful.” Jemma added.  
  
“Message received.” Skye said, rolling her eyes.  


* * *

After everything had settled down, Fitz had found himself holed up in the library with a very agitated Jemma. She kept tapping her foot against the leg of the table, fidgeting in such a way that Fitz knew she had something to say.  
  
“What is it?” He asked, setting aside the book in front of him.  
  
She scrunched her eyebrows together in that adorable way that she did when she was worried. “It’s just, I keep thinking that things could have gone so much better than they did today. With Skye, I mean.”  
  
“What do you mean? You were great, just like always. And you can’t reasonably blame yourself for Skye getting bitten in the first place, you know how reckless she can be.”  
  
“She just wants to prove herself.” Simmons said. “That’s not what I meant anyway. The whole time we were in there I just kept thinking about what would’ve happened if it had been one of us.”  
  
“Yeah, well you and I know better than to try to take on a hydra alone. That’s why we hunt in in teams, isn’t it?” It was a rule that they not go hunting alone, and while the two of them saw less combat than the others, they did routinely join Bobbi or Trip to take out a few targets (and usually test out some new weapons). As of late, Fitz had found himself drawing up more and more blueprints in the training room while Skye and Jemma practiced with various weapons and combat techniques. She’d been increasingly focused on her physical training since she’d had a particularly nasty encounter with a Shax demon about two months ago and he could tell that she and Skye were both benefitting from her newfound determination.  
  
“Yes, but what if we could be more than just a part of a team?” She asked.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
She chewed her lip for a moment before responding. “Well, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes for you and I to become parabatai. You know there are benefits. We’d be able to heal each other more effectively, to fight in tandem, combine our strength. I didn’t want to pressure you, but it’ll be your eighteenth birthday in a few months and after that we won’t be able to perform the ceremony.”  
  
“I don’t know Jemma. It makes sense for people like Ward and Trip, but we’re just researchers.”  
  
She wouldn’t let it go though. “Yes, I know, but we could be so much more than that.”  
  
“So you’re saying you don’t want to do research anymore?”  
  
She ran a hand through her hair. “Of course not, Fitz. I’m just saying that it could be beneficial for when we do have to fight.”  
  
He was running out of excuses and she was looking at him expectantly. Thankfully, it was at that moment that the doors burst open to reveal a very annoyed looking Bobbi. “Simmons, I believe I found something of yours.”  
  
The confused look was wiped off Jemma’s face as a sandy haired young man swaggered through the doors. “I must have the wrong place. I’m looking for my sister. She’s about this high,” he said, holding a hand just below his shoulder, “clumsy and a bit awkward.”  
  
“Lance!” Jemma exclaimed, shooting out of her seat and across the room. He laughed as she launched herself into his arms, swinging her around like she was still the gangly fifteen year old he’d seen off two years ago.  “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Mum and Dad sent me to check in on you. They’re worried you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd.”  
  
Jemma rolled her eyes. “I miss one phone call and they’re ready to send out the search party.”  
  
“They miss you. We all do. The library just isn't the same without you and Oliver Twist here.” He said, jabbing a finger in Fitz’s direction.  
  
“You do know I’m not actually an orphan, right?” He asked, gathering up the books from the table. “I’ve got parents.”  
  
“You’ve got a mum you hardly see, and a mysterious Shadowhunter father that you’ve never met.” Lance corrected. “Sounds like the makings of a heartwarming orphan tale to me.”  
  
“Have you even read Oliver Twist?” Bobbi asked, crossing her arms and looking at Lance like he were something she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe.  
  
“Of course I have, Love. Don’t let my devilishly good looks fool you, I’m a properly educated Englishman.”  
  
Bobbi was about to respond when Jemma cut in, defusing the situation. “Bobbi, would you mind checking in on Skye for me while I show Lance around?”  
  
“Dr. Morse is on the case.” She said, saluting as she turned on her heel and headed for the infirmary.  
  
“Thank you!” Jemma called to her retreating form. As soon as Bobbi was out of sight she turned to Lance. “Do you have to antagonize everyone?” She scolded, smacking her brother on the arm.  
  
“What? She’s hot.”  
  
His sister scoffed at his excuse. “You are incorrigible. Come on, I’ll show you around before supper. Are you coming Fitz?”  
  
“I’ll see you at dinner.” He smiled, picking up the last book and adding it to the stack in his arms. “Just going to put these away.”     
  
She nodded, before leading Lance out into the hall and leaving him surrounded by old books and silence.  
  
One thought echoed through his head as he returned the tomes he was holding: What now?

 

* * *

“You’re supposed to be resting.”  
  
Skye heaved a dramatic sigh. “But resting is so boring.” She whined, dramatically drawing out the O of boring.  
  
“I don’t care if it’s boring, you need to heal.” Bobbi said, plucking the seraph blade from the younger girl’s hand.  
  
“Please tell me you aren’t here to lecture me. I’ve had more than enough of that today.” Skye said before switching to a deep, masculine tone. “‘What the hell were you thinking, Rookie? Pull another stunt like that and we’ll be putting you on a pyre before you’ve even finished your training.’ Ugh. And Ward’s not even the worst, Coulson hardly spoke to me. He just gave me this look like he was too disappointed to even say anything. I swear, everyone’s been acting like I lit myself on fire or something.”  
  
Bobbi perched herself on the chair next to Skye’s cot. “Believe it or not, it’s because we care about you — all of us.”  
  
Skye raised an eyebrow, glancing dubiously over at her friend. “Even the T-1000?” She asked.  
  
“Especially him.” Bobbi smirked.  
  
“I’ll believe that when he proves himself capable of feeling human emotion.” She settled back onto her pillows. “So, why are you here?”  
  
“Simmons wanted me to check on you and it sounded better than putting up with her brother for another second, so here I am.” She said.  
  
“Jemma has a brother?”  
  
“If by ‘brother’ you mean an obnoxious, arrogant, British circus monkey.”  
  
Skye hadn’t known Bobbi for long, but from what she could tell, most things rolled right off her back, She’d never seen her this worked up before. “That bad huh?”  
  
“You have no idea.”  
  
“Well, I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so why don’t you tell me all about it?” Sky suggested.  
  
“His name is Lance.” Bobbi started, and from there on out the conversation was pretty one-sided.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews let me know how I'm doing, so if you have a moment, please tell me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable.” - Neil Gaiman

Ward had been stuck with dinner duty that night, along with Trip. The two of them had decided to go for a hearty homestyle meal to welcome their most recent guest to the states. Trip had made an enormous amount of thick, cheesy macaroni according to his mother’s recipe as well as a pan full of mixed veggies, and Ward had whipped up some crispy baked chicken in the oven.  
  
“Are you sure about this?” Trip asked as he watched his parabatai sprinkle brown sugar over the halved peaches that were lain out on the baking sheet.  
  
“Trust me, it’s delicious. My grandmother made these all the time when I was little.” Ward said, sliding the tray into the oven. “Plus it’s a really quick dessert to make.”  
  
Trip held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll trust you and your buttery peaches.” he said. “Let’s get the table set while they warm up.”  
  
The two of them fell into an easy rhythm as they shuttled cups and plates to the dining table.  
  
“So, have you met Jemma’s brother before?” Trip asked, laying a fork down on the table.  
  
“No, but I’ve heard he’s pretty good at what he does.” Grant replied, following behind him with the spoons.  
  
“Maybe after dinner we can take him up to the training room and see what he’s got.” Trip grinned. “I’ve been dying to go a few rounds with someone who I haven’t been training with for the past seven years.”  
  
“You should ask him, it’ll be good for you. I was actually gonna check on Skye after dinner.”  
  
Trip’s face split into a huge smirk. “Were you now?”  
  
“Don’t give me that look.” Ward said. “You know how Skye is, if someone doesn’t babysit her 24/7 she’ll aggravate her injuries.”  
  
“Man, you’ve got it bad. You know, if you get any more wrapped around her finger you might actually turn into a ring.”  
  
“I’m not wrapped around her finger.” Ward insisted.  
  
Trip raised an eyebrow at him. “Clearly you haven’t seen the way you look at her.”  
  
“Go get your stupid macaroni, you idiot.”  
  
“You two are gonna have beautiful babies!” Trip said. As he walked into the kitchen he called back over his shoulder. “Oh, and I call dibs on godfather!”  
  
Ward wasn’t even a little surprised when his parabatai caught the butter knife that sailed past his ear.  

 

* * *

The table hadn’t been set for long when people started to trickle into the dining room. First Bobbi came sauntering in, followed by Fitz and Coulson, who took his spot at the head of the table. Jemma led Lance in not long after, and Ward took Skye’s vacant seat so the newcomer could sit across from his sister. Unfortunately for Bobbi, this also meant that she would be forced to sit next to the Brit for the entire dinner. As soon as May had slid silently into her seat across from Coulson, the meal began. The general consensus seemed to be that Trip and Ward had outdone themselves, but despite the praise and the excitement of new company Grant couldn’t help but notice the void that Skye had left in the routine of things.  
  
“May I be excused?” He asked Coulson after twenty minutes had passed. “I want to bring some to Skye before it gets cold.” Coulson checked his plate to make sure he'd eaten enough (which Ward found both funny and endearing) and agreed to let him go. Trip caught his eye as he walked back to the kitchen and gave him a big thumbs up.  
  
Walking to the infirmary didn’t take long, even with a plate full of food in his hand. “Hey, are you hungry?” Her head shot up as he walked towards her bed.  
  
“That depends. What did you bring?”  
  
He set the plate down on her lap. “Chicken, vegetables, and Mrs. Triplett’s famous macaroni. I also have peaches for dessert.”  
  
“Thank goodness, I’m starving. I take back every mean thing I ever said about you, you’re my most favorite person ever.” She said, taking the fork he offered her and digging in. “Did you make this?” She asked around a mouthful of chicken.  
  
“Yes, I did. And don’t talk with your mouth full. What, were you raised in a barn?” He teased.  
  
“No, an orphanage.” She said and took a large bite of macaroni.  
  
Grant didn’t know what to say. “Oh, I didn’t realize…I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s not your fault. Besides, now that I’m here I feel like it all makes sense.I finally understand why I never fit in, why nobody wanted me. Finally being a part of this means that it wasn’t all for nothing, you know?”  
  
He didn’t know, and he said as much. “But I’m still glad you’re here, and I’m very glad you didn’t die today.”  
  
“And I’m very glad you know your way around a kitchen.” She said, clearing her plate. “Did you say you brought dessert?” He produced the two peach halves, offering one to her and keeping the other for himself. “Thank you.” She said, breaking the silence in which the two of them had been enjoying the sweet fruit. “Not just for dinner, but for everything. You’re a good teacher and a good Shadowhunter — I should have listened to you today. I’m sorry I didn’t.”  
  
He popped the last bite of peach into his mouth, cleaning the juice off his fingers as he chewed. “Skye, when I tell you to do something I need to be able to trust that you’ll do it. I know you just want to prove yourself, believe me I was the same way, but when I give you orders it’s for your own safety. You’re talented and you’re going to be a great Shadowhunter someday, but you’re still new to this and it’s my job to protect you out there. I can’t do that if we don’t trust each other.”  
  
“Believe it or not, trust has never really been one of my strong suits.” She said.  
  
He nodded. “Then we’ll work on it, together.”  
  
She nodded for a moment and then dropped her eyes, no longer able to withstand the intensity of his gaze. “What’s with these?” She asked, picking his left hand up off his lap and examining the ring he wore.  
  
“Family rings. Every Shadowhunter family has one.” He explained. “The design is representative of the family’s name. For example, the name Ward means guard so our family ring has a shield design.”  
  
“What about the others?” She asked, examining the black patterns of the band.  
  
“Simmons means harken so the Simmons family has a bugle pattern, Triplett is obvious.” Skye called to memory the pattern on Trip’s ring — three interlocking circles. Ward went on. “May is a bit unclear but the general consensus is that it’s representative of family ties so the Mays have a knotted rope. Bobbi’s family is one of the oldest Shadowhunter families, and one of only a handful to have a black family ring. Morse means dark, so the Morse family has a silver moon pattern to make their family rings look like the night sky.”  
  
Skye twisted the ring around his finger, sliding her fingertips over the indentations of the design. “What about Coulson? His ring is interesting.”  
  
“Coulson means victorious people, so Coulson’s ring has saffron flames.”  
  
“Saffron? That’s oddly specific.”  
  
“Saffron is the color of victory.”  
  
She stopped fidgeting with his ring for a moment and looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You have a color for victory?”  
  
“Shadowhunters have a color for everything.” He told her. “Black for hunting through the night, For death and mourning, the color’s white. Gold for a bride in her wedding gown, And red to call enchantment down. White silk when our bodies burn, Blue banners when the lost return. Flame for the birth of a Nephilim, And to wash away our sins. Gray for knowledge best untold, Bone for those who don't grow old. Saffron lights the victory march, Green will mend our broken hearts. Silver for the demon towers, And bronze to summon wicked powers.”  
  
“Well, I guess I can kiss my dream of a white wedding goodbye.”  
  
“You’ll look prettier in gold anyway.” He said, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You know, I can get you the codex from the library. It can probably answer your questions better than I can.” He said, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.  
  
“No.” She said, grasping his large hand between her own slender ones. “You’re much better company than a dusty old book.”  
  
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”  
  
“I am resting!” She insisted.  
  
“I meant sleeping.” He tried again.  
  
She continued to play with his ring. “I’m not tired.” She insisted, only to be met with a disapproving look. “Fine, if I lie down will you stay and tell me more about the rings?”  
  
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”  
  
She winced in pain as he helped her rest her head on the pillows, but soon she was settled on her back and looking expectantly up at him.  
  
“Like I said, every family has a unique pattern or design on their ring. If someone is adopted into a Shadowhunter family, or if a Mundane ascends to become a Nephilim, they receive their own family ring to use.”  
  
“Use?”  
  
“They aren’t just pretentious jewelry, they serve a utilitarian purpose. Giving your family ring to someone outside of your family is a pretty big deal. We exchange family rings as a sign of commitment.”  
  
“Like an engagement ring?”  
  
“The Nephilim aren’t that sentimental. It’s more like a contract in the eyes of the clave — a promise that the two families will be joined in marriage.” He clarified. “When the wedding day arrives, the rings are returned an the two exchange runes. It’s like a parabatai ceremony.”  
  
“What’s that like?” She asked. Skye’s eyes were only half open now, desperately trying to stay focused on his face. Of course she had never been to a parabatai ceremony before, she’d only been at the Institute for three months.  
  
Ward was happy to move in any direction that led away from wedding talk, so he called to mind the day that he and Trip had become bound to one another. “Well, first you have to put on red gear, then the two Shadowhunters who are taking part in the ceremony stand in separate circles of fire, then they move into a third circle and exchange runes and vows.”  
  
“Vows?” She mumbled, barely clinging to consciousness.  
  
“Yes, parabatai make a vow to one another that’s usually only voided by death. It’s rare to find someone worthy of becoming your parabatai, and warriors who have lost theirs say it’s the most excruciating pain that a Shadowhunter can ever endure. It’s a big commitment, but it’s worth it to be able to understand each other in a way you couldn’t before, draw from each other’s strength in battle, even sense each other’s life force.”  
  
“It sounds nice.” She whispered.  
  
“It is. I’m very lucky to have Trip.”  
  
“I hope I find someone like that.” Her eyes were closed now, and her breaths had grown long and deep.  
  
“I’ve got a feeling you already have.” He assured her as she finally gave in to the comfort of sleep. He watched her rest for a while, following the steady rise and fall of her chest as it reassured him that she’d live to fight another day. “Rest up Rookie, you've got a long road ahead of you.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please take a second to leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.” - Proverbs 11:14

Phil Coulson had certainly had his doubts about leaving the New York Institute in favor of running the one in DC, but as his eyes roved the walls of his office, he knew he had made the right choice. Dozens of pictures in uniform black frames littered the wall behind his desk. There were several of Trip and Ward at different ages, fighting, playing, teasing each other. Sometimes Bobbi appeared in the photos with them, usually rolling her eyes or laughing. She had always been a bit more camera shy, but the photos he did have of her tracked her transformation from the shy young girl she’d been when they first met to the vibrant young woman she had become. There were fewer pictures of FitzSimmons, and only two or three of Skye, but he had made sure to include the institute’s newest residents as best he could.  
  
His favorites formed a cluster on the corner of his desk. There was one of Grant and Trip on the day of their parabatai ceremony, Skye laughing while Fitz and Simmons grinned at each other over a mountain of books, a younger version of Bobbi with her hair in braids and May actually cracking a small grin as she handed the girl a seraph blade.  
  
That reminded him, he needed to run an inventory of the armory. He pushed himself off his chair and headed for the door, but he never ended up making it to the armory. Fitz was standing in the doorway, looking completely uncomfortable and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Sorry, if you’re busy I can just come back later, Sir.”  
  
“Come in, come in. I wasn’t busy at all.” He assured the young man. “What can I do for you?”  
  
The poor kid’s face was getting redder by the second. “I… well you see…it’s just…”  
  
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Coulson suggested, motioning for the young inventor to have a seat across from him.  
  
Fitz sat, taking a deep breath and seemingly collecting his thoughts. “I need some advice.” He finally admitted.  
  
“About what?” Coulson prompted.  
  
He ran a hand through his short curls, leaving them poking out in all sorts of directions. “It’s Jemma. She’s asked me to become her parabatai.”  
  
“I can’t say I’m surprised, Simmons has been joining in Skye’s training sessions more and more these days. I get the sense that she’d like to be a bit more on the forefront. But you don’t want to be, do you?”  
  
“I’m happy where I am, but Jemma… she means a lot to me, and if she wants to go out and fight demons, then I want to be there to have her back.”  
  
Coulson smiled at the the young inventor. “That sounds like something a good parabatai would say. So what’s holding you back?”  
  
“Well, that’s just it Sir. In her eyes it’s the perfect plan, but…”  
  
“There’s only one relationship that parabatai are forbidden to enter into.” Coulson figured, finishing off Fitz’s sentence.  
  
He nodded, silently blushing, and Coulson knew he was going to have to open up a few old wounds if he wanted to help.  
  
“Did you know that May and I have been parabatai since we were fourteen?” He asked, picking up a photo from the cluster of favorites on the corner of his desk and handing it to Fitz. This one was the oldest of the bunch, and in it much younger versions of May and himself smiled into the camera, both sporting red gear and grinding broadly. He was fairly certain that Fitz kept a similar image on his own desk, one of him and Simmons at age ten standing on the steps of the London Institute. “Her mother was offered the position of Consul in Idris, and we were terrified that we would be split up. So, we scrambled to become parabatai before that could happen. We were just kids then, we didn’t know what we were getting into or how we might change — how our feelings might change.”  
  
“You fell in love.” Fitz guessed, sparing the photo one last look before handing it back.  
  
Coulson smiled sadly at him as he placed it back on his desk. “I guess we’ll never know. The point is, you and Simmons should put everything in the open before you make this decision.”  
  
“How do I tell her though? If she doesn’t feel the same way, it could ruin our friendship.  
  
Coulson smiled again. “Fitz, if you live in fear of what might happen, you’ll never know what could be.”

* * *

  
Three days. That’s how long Skye had been stuck in her bed in the infirmary, and this morning she had finally  been given the okay from Jemma to leave. She was pretty sure Ward was getting some sort of sick pleasure out of the fact that Simmons wasn’t going to let her have an iratze until tomorrow in case there was any venom left behind. So for now she had about 18 stitches holding her skin together, and she was hating every second of it. In fact, by the time she made it back to her room she had thoroughly convinced herself that it was actually just Jemma’s way of getting revenge on her for being a horrible patient.  
  
Her first order of business had been a shower, which had been one part painful and two parts difficult, but having clean hair had been worth it. Unfortunately, spending the past few nights waking up in a feverish haze every few hours had really thrown off her sleep schedule. After two hours of tossing, turning, and wincing when she landed in a position that put stress on her stitches, Skye finally called it quits and rolled out of her bed. She really didn’t have anywhere in mind when she started wandering the Institute, but before she knew it she was standing in front of the training room door, soundlessly easing it open.  
  
She had figured it would be empty in the middle of the night, but inside two illuminated Seraph blades swirled through the air, slashing and spiraling in an intricate dance. When they stilled, the soft glow of the blades washed over the lines and angles of Melinda May’s face. “You said you were going to bed.” She monotoned, putting the knives away.  
  
“You said you were just our tutor.” Skye countered.  
  
The older woman set the blades down in a way that was frighteningly calm. “I am.” And with that, she left.

* * *

  
November was coming to a close when Grant found himself being guilt tripped into a night out with Trip, Bobbi, and the elder of the two Simmons siblings.  
  
“It’s Friday night.” His parabatai said. “Skye’s been out of the infirmary for over a week now, you don’t have to keep track of her every move anymore.”  
  
“I don’t know …” Grant started, only to be cut off.  
  
“C’mon man, you cannot make me third wheel with Bobbi and the Bumbling Brit.” Trip said firmly. Amusing as their near constant bickering was, it really would be cruel of him to make Trip endure the growing sexual tension between the two without an ally.  
  
Ward let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”  
  
“Yes! I knew I could convince you to come.”  
  
“There’s a difference between convincing me and wearing me down.”  
  
Trip ignored his comment, running off to change. “Meet us by the door in ten minutes, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Ward said, waving a dismissive hand over at his friend. He took the time to rinse off from his training session and slip into jeans and a white tee. He threw his leather jacket over it and slipped a few seraph blades inside before marching towards the front door.  
  
“What’ll it be tonight?” He asked Bobbi, who was lacing up her boots.  
  
“I’m feeling something sweet, maybe salty too?” She said.  
  
“So, something on the rocks?” Lance suggested.  
  
Trip laughed. “Not in this country Union Jack.”  
  
“Ah, Lance Simmons can’t drink here, but Lance Hunter can.” He said rummaging around in his pocket and pulling out a small piece of plastic.  
  
Bobbi snatched it out of his hand and looked at it more closely. “Hunter? As in Shadowhunter?”  
  
Lance shrugged. “First thing that popped into my head.”  
  
“No offense, but whatever you paid for this was too much.” Trip assessed, peering over Bobbi’s shoulder. “This has to be the worst fake I’ve ever seen.”  
  
Ward held the door as they filed outside. “Yeah, that’s just what we need, to call May from a holding cell when you get busted for a crappy fake ID. Come on, we’ll go to Crossroads instead. Trust me Hunter, Calliope’s milkshakes are better than any mixed drink.”  
  
They strolled down the street together while Lance mumbled about “stupid American drinking laws” and Trip whistled a tune that Ward didn’t recognize. Before long they were standing out front of a tiny hole-in-the-wall eatery with a sign over the door that said ‘Crossroads Diner’ and sported a couple of faded runes. “Here we are.” Trip announced holding the door open while the others escaped the chilly night air.  
  
A mundane would never have known the waitress standing at the cash register was a fairy, or been given one of the menus that listed the types of blood that the diner offered, but Coulson’s gang had been coming here for years now. Those little nuances weren't lost on them.  
  
“Hey kids! Fries sound good? I’ve got a batch in right now.” Asked a curvy woman behind the counter. Calliope was part of the local werewolf pack, and had had a soft spot for the group ever since Bobbi and Trip had diffused a pretty tense situation between some loitering vampires and a young warlock. Sometimes the pack liked to congregate at the diner, but tonight it was mostly empty with the exception of few vampires sitting in the corner booth and sipping on something that definitely wasn’t merlot.  
  
“Sounds great!” Trip told her, and the four of them slid into a booth near the door o the kitchen. The waitress, Violet, dropped off some menus and let them weigh their options for a minute before delivering their order to the kitchen.  
  
“My little sister hasn’t been to much trouble, I hope?” Lance asked conversationally. “She and Fitz had a particular affinity for blowing things up back home.”  
  
“So you do know Fitz’s name.” Bobbi said, her tone straddling the line between accusing and casual.  
  
Lance gave a dramatic eye roll. “You seem to be forgetting the part where we lived together for three years; of course I know the bloke’s name. Besides, I make a point of knowing the names of all the poor bastards who fall in love with Jemma.”  
  
“You think you’re some sort of love expert?” Trip inquired.  
  
He shrugged. “It’s a talent of mine. I can spot a man in love from a mile away. Take the Tin Man here, for example.” He said, jabbing a thumb at Ward. “You may act all icy and mysterious, but one look from the newbie and you turn into a pile of mush and heart-eyes.”  
  
Grant was about to protest when Violet appeared depositing their milkshakes and a large basket of french fries on their table. After she left, Bobbi decided to turn the conversation around on Lance, asking him about his home. He was all too happy to launch into a lengthy explanation, and several stories. Grant just sat back, slurping on his vanilla shake and keeping a discreet eye on the restaurant’s other patrons.  
  
Things with the local vampires had been growing tense again. It had gotten to the point that they’d completely stopped cooperating with the Clave and Coulson didn’t even know who was leading them anymore. There had been rumors — whispers from around the city — that the clan’s former leader had been usurped, but there had yet to be any evidence supporting the claims. Nonetheless, FitzSimmons had been working around the clock on the new holy water gun in case things got worse and the vampires decided to make a move. Ward just hoped that it wasn’t necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this week, but important to the plot. I received a question about the ages of some of the characters, so I wanted to make a note of that for future reference. At this point in the story, Lance is 20, Bobbi, Trip, and Ward are 19, FitzSimmons are 17, and Skye is 15. Please take a minute to let me know if you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” - Lao Tzu

“Where are you guys going?”  
  
Jemma nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice behind her. “Skye. What are you doing up?”  
  
Skye cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “It’s ten PM. Everyone else went out and I’m dying of boredom.”  
  
“We have to go to church.” Fitz said, zipping up his jacket.  
  
“Church?” Skye repeated. “Why? You two been committing sinful acts in the library?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
“We need more holy water for the guns.” Jemma elaborated.  
  
“This one,” Fitz pulled a silvery weapon from his pocket and brandished it in the air, “only shoots about a foot and a half.”  
  
“Fitz is updating the delivery mechanism, but we need more holy water for the cartridges.”  
  
Skye eased the the gun out of Fitz’s hands, examining it from every angle. “This is pretty slick.”  
  
“Careful!” Fitz warned as she took a look down the barrel. “It’s loaded.”  
  
Skye lowered the weapon from her face. “Can I come with you guys? Church sounds way more fun than sitting around here alone all night. Wow… that’s not a sentence I thought I’d ever say.”  
  
The two scientists shared a look. “I don’t see why not.” Fitz shrugged. “It’ll only take about twenty minutes anyway.”  
  
“Fine, but wear something warmer than that.” Jemma said, pointing at Skye’s v-neck and jeans.  
  
A heavy sweatshirt and a pair of combat boots were all it took to appease her, and soon the three of them were descending the steps of the institute into the early November air.  
  
“Did you guys know that May’s a ninja?” Skye asked after they’d been walking in silence for five minutes, forming a triangle on the narrow sidewalk. She watched as the two of them shared one of their signature psychically linked glances. “You totally did know, didn’t you?”  
  
“We’ve never actually seen her fight firsthand, but there are stories.” Simmons explained.  
  
“Ward says they call her the Cavalry. She saved over twenty-five people without any backup.” Fitz said, sounding equally awestruck and terrified.  
  
“Only she and Coulson know what happened when she went in, but afterwards the two of them left the New York Institute and came here. As far as I know, she hasn’t seen combat since.” Simmons finished, picking up the end of Fitz’s story without missing a beat.  
  
“What’s with the two of them anyway?”  
  
“Coulson says they’ve been parabatai since they were fourteen. He even showed me a picture from their ceremony.” Fitz said, earning surprised looks from both girls.  
  
Skye shoved her hands in her sweatshirt to warm them up, and one of them brushed against the cool metal of the gun in her pocket. “That’s it? The way they act you’d think they’d been married for ten years.” There was that look again. “Don’t tell me you two haven’t noticed it. Coulson looks at her like she’s the rising sun.”  
  
Fitz looked supremely uncomfortable at this point, so it was Simmons who spoke up. “Skye, romantic relationships between parabatai are forbidden. No matter what they may or may not feel for each other, they can never be together.”  
  
“That’s why it’s important to choose your parabatai carefully.” Fitz added, and Simmons gave an absentminded nod.  
  
Skye knew the Clave was harsh, and that Shadowhunters had very strict laws, but she couldn't believe there was actually a ban on two people loving each other. She opened her mouth to protest the rule when a cry rang out from a nearby alley. She was puling a seraph blade from her belt before she even had time to process the noise, and she could see Fitz and Simmons doing the same in front of her.  
  
Looking back, she should have known something was wrong as soon as they turned the corner. Besides a dumpster and some stray litter scraping its way along the concrete, the alley was empty. “Help! Save me little Shadowhunters!” Mimicked a voice from behind them. “You Nephilim are all the same aren’t you? Always blindly protecting whoever calls for you.”  
  
“Show yourself.” Fitz called out. A figure appeared, seeming to bleed from the shadows, followed by another, and another, and another. Soon the three of them stood back to back, surrounded by eight beings with dark hair and powder white skin. It didn’t take Skye much effort to figure out what they were. She and her friends were surrounded by vampires, and they were totally screwed.

When Jemma came to, her head was absolutely pounding. “Careful, I think you’ve got a concussion.” The sound of her best friend’s voice was enough to convince her to force her eyes open, painful as it was to return to reality. She could tell immediately that they weren’t anywhere in the Institute, but she was happy to find that she could just make out Fitz’s face in the mercifully dark room. Her heartbeat throbbed faster through her brain when she realized that she could not make out Skye’s.  
  
She scrambled to sit up, biting back a wave of nausea as she did so. Definitely a concussion. “Fitz, are you alright? Where’s Skye?”  
  
Jemma’s eyes scanned his body as he spoke, dutifully seeking out any apparent injuries. She noticed the odd way his cardigan was tied around his body just as he said, “I think my arm’s broken again, but other than that I’m okay. I haven’t got a clue where Skye might be.”  
  
She tried to look around and get a sense for the space they were in, but the movement was only making her more dizzy. “Where are we?”  
  
“I think it’s some sort of basement.”  
  
“How long were we unconscious?”  
  
He shrugged. “No clue, and there’s no windows, so we can’t even guess. The only way out is through that door,” he indicated an industrial metal door that was just visible on the other side of the room, “and it’s bolted from the outside. There’s some stairs in the corner but they’re cut off about two or three meters up. Even if one of us could get up there, I don’t know if we’d be able to get through the door, or even if what’s left of the stairs would be safe. Bloody vampires. Just because they can jump around like Super Mario doesn’t mean they have to go around endangering the structural integrity of things.” He mumbled.  
  
Typical, that they’d be stuck in the basement of a vampire lair together with no way out and he’d somehow find a way to make her laugh. She took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts and taking stock of the situation. “We need a plan.” She decided. “What’ve we got?”  
  
“Our steles are gone, but they left our blades.” He said. Jemma looked down at the ground, and her gut twisted when she realized that the light that had allowed her to find Fitz’s face in the windowless room had come from the softly glowing weapons at their feet. They both knew exactly what it meant, though neither dared say it out loud. There would be no fight for the two of them, there was no way out of this basement. The seraph blades hadn’t been an oversight, they were a taunt.  
  
“The holy water gun?” She asked hopefully.  
  
Fitz shook his head. “Skye has it, remember? Even if it were with us, it doesn’t work right and it only had six rounds in it.”  
  
The thought that Skye may still be in possession of the weapon allowed a tiny bit of hope to bloom in Jemma’s chest. It wasn’t perfect, but Skye was clever and resourceful, and if anyone could make the most of this situation it was her.  
  
“We need a plan.” She repeated, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her defeat.  
  
He wrapped the arm that wasn't tied up around her shoulder and let her bury her face in the crook of his neck. “We’ll get out of this Jemma, I promise.”  


* * *

Skye’s side was on fire, like the two U-shaped wounds on her abdomen where slowly being reopened. She winced, reaching for her side to assess the injury. It hadn’t really reopened, thankfully.  
  
“Oh good, you’re up.” It was the same voice from the alley, the one that had been goading them just before everything went dark. She forced herself into a sitting position, propping herself up on one arm while the other wrapped around her midsection. She could feel her pulse throbbing under her fingers, and the gun in her pocket digging into her forearm.  
  
“Take me to my friends.” It was a great line, or at least it would have been if her voice hadn’t been two octaves too high and laced with pain. Skye still couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from, but she could feel eyes on her. There were tiny slivers of light creeping between the boards over the windows, allowing her to distinguish a heavy looking door in front of her, and some sort of balcony overhead. There was no surefire way to tell how big the room was thanks to the immense shadows that loomed all around her, but she could tell that the ceilings were very high from the way her voice echoed through the space.  
  
“I don’t think your little friends should be your first concern.” He replied.  
  
Skye took a deep breath before shoving herself into a standing position. If she was facing this bastard, she wanted to do it on her own two feet. “Who are you?”  
  
Just like in the alley, he seemed to materialize from the darkness, no footsteps to give him away until he stood himself in one of the slivers of light. “You, little Nephilim, may call me Ian. No need to ask your name, Coulson’s been gushing about his new little pet for months now. My employer has grown quite tired of it really.”  
  
Aside from the paper white skin, there was nothing really exceptional about the way he looked. Like most of his kind, his hair was dark, but there was nothing special about his face. Skye figured she could have passed him on the street and never noticed him. “Your employer?”  
  
“What my employer wants is none of your business.” Ian told her. “Only that he has asked me to make Coulson’s life a living hell.”  
  
“Where are my friends?” She tried again. Her mind was racing, scrabbling at information and trying to put together a way out of here. The door looked like it could be a front door, and the fact that she didn't see any chains or deadbolts was promising. This Ian guy would have to be pretty sure he could control her if he was bold enough to keep her right in front of an exit.  
  
His face twisted into a sick grin. “Don’t worry. We’ll let them see your body before we kill them.”  
  
“Coulson will know we’re missing. He’ll come looking for us.” The pain in her side had begun to subside, clearing her head.  
  
Ian let out a hollow chuckle. “I’m counting on it.” He circled her slowly, stalking like a jungle cat. “We’ll let him find the little scientists first, drown himself in the sorrow of losing them. Then, once he’s pulled himself together a bit and allowed himself to hope you’re still alive, your body will turn up too.”  
  
“You’re not going to get away with this.” It was cliche, and came off way more ‘damsel in distress’ than she had meant it to, but it bought her some time to think of a way out of this. She had a plan, more like an idea really, and it was totally crazy, but it was all she had and she was going to have to run with it.  
  
Her little remark didn’t buy her nearly as much time as she’d hoped. “Watch me.” He said, and almost as soon as he had he was on her, piercing the side of her neck while she struggled to pull away. Her hands clawed at the gun in her pocket. Fitz had said it only shot about a foot and a half, and she hadn’t been willing to risk a misfire while he was stalking around her.  
  
It seemed like a lifetime before her hand closed around the cool metal of the weapon. Skye barely pulled it from her pocket before she jammed it into Ian’s side and pulled the trigger. She wasn’t really sure what would happen to him, but she certainly wasn’t going to stick around to find out. As soon as his grip loosened she was off, darting for the door and flying out into the night air.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your thoughts below!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” - John 15:13

Melinda knew Phil Coulson like the back of her hand, better even. She knew his fears and weaknesses, his strengths and skills, how he liked his coffee and where he hid away when his mind was overwhelmed. So it was no shock that she also knew that something was weighing heavily on his mind when she found him wandering the library at midnight on a Friday.

“It’s the girl, isn’t it?”

Anyone else would have jumped straight in the air at her near materialization behind them, but Coulson knew, always knew, when she was near him. It was a part of their bond as parabatai, a sort of magnetism that let them sense each other perfectly. He nodded, turning to face her. “Do you think she has potential?”

“I think they all do. To answer your real question, I do think you should requisition for her adoption. You know the Council won’t be happy about it though. Our numbers aren’t what they used to be, and it won’t take them long to figure out who she is. It’s not going to be easy to keep that from her — rumors are going to fly.”

He shook his head as they rounded the end of a bookshelf. “I don’t intend to. Skye deserves to know-”

“To know what, Phil? That her father was obsessed and insane? That his experiments caused a war with the vampires that cost us nearly a hundred lives? Do you really think she’ll want to stay if she knows that?”

“I think she deserves to know the truth about who she is.”

Melinda folded her hands behind her back, rocking on her feet as she thought out her next words. “Skye knows who she is. She’s a hacker, and a smart aleck, and a damn good Shadowhunter. Let _her_ decide who she is, not her father.”

He heaved a long breath and she could tell she had gotten through to him. “You’re right, I should… did you hear that?”

She had heard it, although she wasn’t sure what ‘it’ was exactly. There it was again, distant but distinct. She knew that voice, she had listened to that voice recite facts from the Codex for seven years. She turned to Coulson and the two of them seemed to recognize it simultaneously. “Ward.”

Ward was somewhere in the Institute screaming for Coulson. Together they raced towards the sound of his voice, and she had a bizarre flashback to the two of them running through the halls of the New York Institute as children, ducking between people in the hallways in an attempt to be the fastest. Those had been such happy days.

The memory came to a screeching halt when they turned a corner to find Ward standing in the hallway with Skye laying limp in his arms, blood from her neck spilling onto his arm where he cradled the base of her skull. Ward had been a lot of things since she met him, brooding, quiet, pessimistic, but never helpless. She had never seen him look as helpless as he did then, mumbling promises and reassurances that fell on deaf ears.

“What happened?” She demanded.

“I don’t know.” He said as the three of them rushed to the infirmary. “We were coming back from Crossroads and she came running up to us talking nonsense about vampires and Fitzsimmons. I thought she was drunk for a second and then I saw the blood. She had the holy water gun with her.”

“Where are the others?” Coulson asked. Ward said that they had gone to the old office building that the local vampire clan was based out of.

They were going to need help. “You stay here.” She said in response to Phil’s questioning look. “I’m going to bring them home.”

* * *

The door was rigged to blow. Well, not the whole door, just the heavy lock that kept it in place. It wasn’t ideal, Fitz thought as he put the final touches on the device, but it would get the door open and give Jemma a chance. “We’re going to loose the element of surprise when it explodes.” He reminded her. “I want you to stay behind me until the last possible second okay?”

Jemma’s brows knit together as he handed her his seraph blade. “What are you doing? You’ll need it.” Realization dawned on her face as he closed her reluctant fingers around the weapon. “No…”

“Jemma, I’m a poor fighter to begin with. With a broken arm-” He started, only to be cut off.

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself for me. There has to be another way!”

He used his good hand to cradle her face and try to quell her rising hysteria. “I’ve done the math, Jemma. You’re a better fighter, and a faster runner. You need to get back to the Institute and send help.”

“No! I won’t just leave you!” She insisted, tears starting to spill over.

He brushed a bit of the moisture from her face with his thumb. “We have to hurry. Skye’s counting on you, and the closer it gets to dawn, the more opposition we’re going to face.”

“No, please don’t do this.” She begged, closer to a whimper than a request.

He wiped away another tear before righting her, making sure she had both blades in hand. He held up the button that would ignite the device on the door and gave her a serious look, drinking her in for the last time and desperately wishing that she were smiling. “Now, when this goes off, whoever’s in the building is going to come and investigate. I’m going to try to distract as many on them as I can, but you’re still going to have to fight like hell. Once you get out, run as fast as you can. I need you to be strong, okay? Be strong, Jemma.”

“Entreat me not to leave thee, or return from following after thee.” She said, barely above a whisper. Fitz immediately recognized the first two lines of the parabatai vows. “Let aught but death part thee and me.”

He reveled in the words for a moment, words of devotion and commitment that were so beautiful — the wrong words for the two of them. From the back of his mind a small fragment of the Song of Solomon emerged. “Love is strong as death.”

He pushed the button.

 

* * *

“I’m guessing it’s not good that the front door is wide open?”

Bobbi hated it, but Hunter was right. “We need to come up with a plan of attack.” She suggested.

“We should stick together.” Trip said, illuminating a seraph blade. She knew he would have preferred his bow, but it wasn’t practical for close combat and he hadn’t had time to get it anyway.

It was only because of her years of training that Bobbi didn’t jump right out of her skin when May appeared out of nowhere and said “Lance and Bobbi will come with me, Ward will go with Trip.”

She was about to inform her tutor that Ward was at the institute, when he too appeared, blood staining his shirt. “Trip and I will go upward, you guys should try to-” His sentence was cut short by an explosion that had clearly come from inside the building. It hadn’t been large, but it was clear that it had come from somewhere below ground.

Without any further discussion they moved into the building, some of them pulling out witch lights as they went and bathing the scene in a cool glow. As instructed, Ward and Trip headed for a staircase that led upwards, likely only still intact because it was made completely of cement, and even then it had some pretty significant chunks missing.

“Look at this.” Lance said. She followed his gaze to a vaguely human shaped pile of ash. Most of it was disintegrated, but she could make out some fingers and what looked like a nose.

“Skye?” She guessed. Bobbi hadn’t exactly been clear on what the holy water gun would do, but it seemed the most likely scenario.

There was a scream from one of the far corners of the room, which she now realized had probably functioned as a lobby of some sort. “Jemma!” Lance was sprinting towards the noise before she even had the chance to pinpoint it.

In an instant she was following after him, drawing her whips with a loud snap as the electrum buzzed beneath her fingers.

May was the first to the door, hauling it open and diving into the stairwell with Lance right on her heels. Bobbi took up the rear, propping the door open in case they needed to make a quick escape.

They had just reached the bottom of the staircase and emptied into a wide hallway when a figure came hurtling towards them with two weapons blazing. Jemma had become an excellent fighter in the past few months, but even with all her newfound skill she wasn’t quick enough to do May any harm. It was a good thing too, because the poor girl looked ready to destroy anything between her and the door.

“Jemma, Jemma it’s us.” Lance said. He raised up his hands in surrender, but didn’t put his weapons down. “It’s us.”

Bobbi expected the young genius to show some sign of relief or happiness, but she didn’t. “We have to go back.” She urged them. “They have Fitz. They have Skye somewhere too, I don’t know if she’s okay. We have to help Fitz!”

“Slow down Simmons. Skye is fine, she’s at the Institute. Who's got Fitz?” It was May who spoke, and Bobbi had never really thought about what a soothing voice she had until that moment. It was the kind of voice you’d want to hear reading you bedtime stories about knights in shining armor and happily ever afters. But Jemma’s hysteria made it clear this was more of a nightmare than a fairytale.

“They have him!” She repeated, and before anyone could get some elaboration she was charging back down the hall with both of her blades gripped tight in her hands. The rest of them had no choice but to follow her as she stormed down the hallway and through the furthest door. Bobbi realized from the damage that this must have been the origin of the explosion they’d heard.

There was no time to dwell on that though, because as soon as they burst into the room half a dozen pairs of eyes turned on them. Most of the vampires where huddled around something, and she could feel her stomach constrict when she realized it was Fitz who was lying on the floor with his eyes closed and pinpricks of blood appearing over his body.

There was a moment in which all of them stood frozen, just looking at each other in the scant light of the basement, and then someone made the first move and everything erupted into chaos.

* * *

Skye felt like she was drowning. No, drowning wasn’t the right word, but it was the closest thing she could compare this feeling to. It was like there was a great weight pulling her into darkness, but instead of fear she just felt warmth and comfort. For a second she forgot why she was even fighting the sensation, but some small part of her brain remembered that there was something extremely important she needed to do. She couldn’t remember what it was, but that knowledge was enough for her, so she willed herself away from the warmth and the comfort of the darkness and towards surface of her consciousness.

It took far more energy than it should have to open her eyes, but when she did she was rewarded with Coulson’s face and his rapt attention. She bolted up in her bed and reached for him, trying to convey how important the information she needed to share was. “Vampires.” She choked out. The words scraped against her dry throat but she pressed on. “They have Jemma. They’re going to kill her and Fitz. You have to help!”

Coulson took her hand gently and tried to ease her back onto the infirmary mattress. “I know. May and Ward went to go help the others find them.”

After the display she had walked in on earlier in the month, knowing that May was out there looking for her friends gave Skye a great deal of comfort. “She’s a ninja.” She said mostly to herself, but she saw Coulson smile a bit at the comment.

“She really is.” He said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“They came out of nowhere. When I woke up there was a man, Ian. I shot him and then I just ran as fast as I could until I saw Ward. I tried to tell him, but I couldn’t talk right.”

His grip on her hand tightened. “You did great, Kiddo.” She didn’t feel like she had done great, she felt like she’d abandoned her friends when they needed her most. “Look, I know this may not be the best time, but I wanted to ask you something and it seems like you could use a distraction.”

She made a humming noise that was somewhere between affirmative and inquisitive and he must have taken it as encouragement because he pressed on. “I’ve been thinking that it’s been great since you came here to the Institute, and you’ve already learned so much, so I would hate for you to have to leave — especially if you didn’t want to. What I’m saying is, I want this to be your home, and I want to be your family.”

Skye wasn't sure what kinds of injuries she’d sustained, but she assumed a pretty big head trauma had to be among them for her to be imagining something like this. And she had to be imagining it, because there was no way he was asking her what she thought he was. She’d been through almost a dozen foster homes and nobody had ever said “I want to adopt you.”

And yet there he was, sitting at her bedside, holding her hand and looking completely genuine as the words spilled out of his mouth. “You don’t have to decide now if you don’t-”

“Yes.” She said, repeating it when she realized how weak it had sounded. “Yes, I want that.”

“Really?” He looked about ready to hug her. Perhaps she was out of energy, or maybe it was the lump in her throat that kept her from speaking, but she found it in herself to nod in affirmation for him. There was a long stretch of time in which he simply held her hand and smiled like he’d been offered the Mortal Instruments by Raziel himself.

There was a nagging voice in the back of her head that told her there was more she had to tell him but the weight was back and stronger than ever, ready to drag her back into the peaceful darkness. “Dad?” She managed, and his smile seemed to increase tenfold.

“Yes Skye?”

Her eyes were barely open now, fluttering between light and darkness with every blink. “I’m really tired.”

She couldn’t see him anymore, but she could feel him squeeze her hand and hear it when he told her it was okay that she was tired and that she should sleep. With his reassurance she let the weight take over and drag her down, down, down into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other...Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.” - Dave Matthews

Jemma was in shock. Or at least, she thought she was. There wasn’t much else that would explain why she would be shaking from head to toe as she stood in the infirmary at two in the morning. The last few hours had been a blur of weapons and ash and hastily applied runes, and now she stood between two of the most important people in her life, hoping that everything she’d done had been enough.  
  
Skye was sleeping peacefully in the bed to her right, and Jemma couldn’t help but feel a tug of affection for the younger girl. They had only known each other for a few months, and yet she found herself unable to imagine her life without Skye. In so many ways they were complete opposites, but somehow it just made them a better team. She knew where Skye fell short in the classroom, and Skye knew where her hesitations in battle were. Each of them made up for the other’s shortcomings without so much as a thought, and she knew that both of them were better for it.    
  
On her left Fitz made a distressed noise in his sleep. She reached out a shaking hand, carding it through his curls and whispering comforting nonsense to him. She loved the way he looked when he slept, it reminded her of how he’d looked when they first met, so young and innocent. When she thought about it, there was a lot that she loved about him. She loved his unruly hair and how he pushed her to do better in everything she tried, the way he finished her sentences and exchanged mannerisms with her. She loved his beautiful blue eyes, and the way he used her first name sparingly and with reverence, like it was a precious commodity he was afraid to waste. Hell, she even loved the way they argued, how perfectly synchronous they were even when they were screaming at each other.  
  
And she loved _him_.  
  
She loved every bit of him. And she’d kept it locked down because he was her best friend before anything else. She’d ignored it because she knew he didn’t feel the same way. And yet he had stood in that basement with her just hours ago and dried her tears, offered his life for hers, and said “love is strong as death.”  
  
“I should have stayed with you.” She said, and as if the shaking weren’t bad enough, she could now feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.  
  
“Bobbi says they’re going to call in the Silent Brothers if he doesn’t wake up by morning. Can’t imagine the poor bloke would want to wake up to that.” Jemma had missed Lance while she and Fitz had been in the states, but she really hadn’t missed his ability to sneak up of her like that.  
  
“No, probably not.” She agreed, trying to keep her voice neutral.  
  
Either Lance didn’t notice the slight quiver in her words, or he simply chose to ignore it. “Of all the times for you to get kidnapped by rogue vampires, it just had to be on my watch.” He was trying to lighten her mood, but his words only made the guilt in her chest heavier.  
  
“Mum and Dad will forgive you. It was my fault.” She choked out, tears finally starting to spill over.  
  
Despite his faults, Lance was a good brother. He was forgiving, protective, and in moments like this, he was very comforting. So Jemma was in no way surprised when his hand fell on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before he wrapped her up in a tight hug. She couldn’t help feeling like child again as he held on to her. “It’s not your fault.” He told her, stroking her hair and rocking her slightly. “You did great, Jem. It’s gonna be alright. You helped him in every way you could, he’s gonna be fine.”  
  
When she was finally all cried out, there was a large wet spot on his t-shirt. She would have felt bad if the garment hadn’t already been doomed by several blood stains and sizable gash down the side. “Sorry.” She said, swiping away at the last few tears.  
  
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Trust me, if anyone in this place deserves a good cry, it’s you.”  
  
“Is Coulson really sending for the Silent Brothers in the morning?”  
  
He nodded. “He probably won’t sleep a wink before they arrive. Last time I saw him he was on the phone with the Consul.You however,need to rest.”  
  
Jemma was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. “No, I have to stay here in case one of them wakes up.”  
  
“What if I stay with them while you have a shower? You can sleep here for the night if you like, but take care of yourself first.”  
  
It was probably the best solution she was going to be offered, so she promised to be back as soon as possible before racing back to her room for a shower and a change of clothes.  


* * *

Lance hadn’t been sitting in the infirmary long when Bobbi walked in. Try as he might, he just couldn’t figure out how she could be completely disheveled and exhausted and still look like she had just descended from the heavens. But there she stood in all her beat-up glory with the light from the hallway making her hair look like a golden halo around her head. “How are they?” She asked.  
  
“No change.” He sighed as she sat down next to him.  
  
She pursed her lips, glancing between the two sleeping trainees. “And Jemma? How’s she holding up?”  
  
“About as well as you’d expect. She wants to sleep here tonight, but I sent her to have a shower first. I’m hoping she doesn’t come back for a while, the last thing she needs is to sit here all night and torment herself.”  
  
“So you’re going to instead?”  
  
“I had no intention of tormenting myself.” He informed her.  
  
“Well if you change your mind, I think May keeps a bottle of whiskey on the top shelf of the far left cabinet.”  
  
Curiosity piqued, he went to go investigate and found that there really was a bottle of whiskey. “You, Love, are an angel.” He told her bringing the bottle back over to where they were sitting. “A terrifying, vampire-slaying angel.”  
  
He still couldn’t get the image of her in that old office building out of his head. One second she’d been standing next to him in the doorway of the basement, and the next she had been slicing off a vampire’s head with the crack of a whip. Really, he thought, nobody should be this turned on by decapitation, but Bobbi Morse seemed to require her very own set of rules, separate from the ones that governed most women.  
  
She pried the bottle from his hands and removed the cap, taking a long swig. “So what happens now?” She asked, handing it back to him.  
  
“Honestly, I have no idea. Although, the most likely scenario is that Jemma and I get dragged home the second our parents find out about this.”  
  
“And Fitz?” She asked, glancing at his sleeping form.  
  
Lance shrugged, letting the whiskey burn down his throat. “He’s free to choose I suppose. Technically he’s Coulson’s responsibility now, but I can’t see him staying here without Jemma. He’d probably come back with us, maybe even go back to Scotland for a while and visit his mum.”  
  
There was a long silence in which they took turns passing the whiskey back and forth. “Six.” She muttered, staring off in the distance.  
  
“Sorry?” He asked, taking another swig from the bottle. It had been more than half empty when he’d pulled in from the cupboard, but now it was nearly gone.  
  
“If the three of you leave, there will only be six of us left here.”  
  
He handed her the bottle, watching the last of its contents disappear down her throat before he leaned back on the cot. “This is a really small institute.”  
  
She gave a soft hum in the affirmative. “It was abandoned after the war with the vampires. Almost everyone who lived here died. Then, seven years ago Coulson and May took over and started training me and Trip and Ward.”  
  
Part of him knew it was rude to ask, but his mind was alight with alcohol, so he didn’t really feel bad when his next sentence slipped out. “Where are your parents? I mean, are they dead or did they just ship you off?” He almost couldn’t decide which would be worse, the thought of her being orphaned and alone, or the idea little twelve year old Bobbi being sent away by the people who were supposed to love her most.  
  
She stretched for a second before flopping backwards onto the bed so they were laying side by side. “The correct answer would be option B, but I guess in a way all of us were banished here.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“You’ve probably heard of Ward’s family before, his father’s the head of the Boston Institute. I guess some less than flattering accusations were made about the way he treated Grant and he thought the best way to shut them up was to send him here. Of course if you ask any of the Wards they’ll tell you it was because it was a great opportunity for him to learn from the best, but really they just couldn’t deal with the prying eyes and the questions.”  
  
Some small part of Lance’s mind that hadn’t quite been overtaken by the alcohol yet realized that Ward might not want him to know this information, so he filed it away and promised himself not to bring it up. “So, how did you end up here?”  
  
“Well, I was what some people refer to as a ‘problematic’ child. My parents were all too happy to ship me away from home.” Bobbi said, laughing humorlessly.  
  
“Home?” He asked.  
  
“New York.” She clarified. “Sometimes I miss it so much that it physically hurts, but I also wouldn’t trade what we have here for the world.”  
  
They both stared up at the ceiling for a moment before something occurred to him. “So, where does Trip fit into the story?”  
  
“For the first couple of months it was just the four of us. The place felt haunted. May hardly spoke, Ward was worse, and Coulson was just trying his best to hold us all together. Then one day Trip moved in and it was like the place had some life in it again. He got me and Ward to come out of our shells, even charmed his way past May’s icy exterior.”  
  
“Yeah, she’s not the most welcoming of people is she?”  
  
Bobbi cracked a smile. “Definitely not.”  
  
“I’m guessing none of you really have an exceptional relationship with your parents then?”  
  
“No, I’m pretty sure Trip’s mom loves him more than life itself. His dad died when he was four though, so she sent him here to be trained. She lives in her parents’ house and takes care of them, but she visits every month or two to try and make us all gain as much weight as possible before she has to leave.”  
  
“She sounds lovely.”  
  
“She is. I just hope you can stick around long enough to meet her.”  
  
He raised his eyebrows at her. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”  
  
Bobbi gave a loud yawn, stretching out before pillowing her head on his chest. “I’ve decided you have your merits.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this week, but one of my favorites. Please leave a comment if you have time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.” - Richard Bach

She should probably be angry, but May’s initial confusion on entering the infirmary was slowly being chased out by affection for the hodgepodge group in front of her. At some point in the past six hours, all seven of her and Phil’s charges had wound up in the infirmary, which was made especially comical by the fact that they usually only kept four cots out at a time. This had left Simmons curled up in the armchair between Fitz and Skye’s beds in a position that was likely to leave her with a severe neck ache when she woke. She decided to pretend she hadn’t seen the empty bottle of whiskey at the end of the bed where Lance and Bobbi were curled up together, both still completely dressed in the clothes they’d had on the day before.  
  
She very nearly burst out laughing when her eyes fell on the final bed. Trip was laying backwards on the bed, half flopped over Grant’s legs and drooling slightly. Ward had passed out on his back, and had one arm dangling off the edge of the mattress and one of his parabatai’s feet resting on his chest, dangerously close to his face.  
  
Soundlessly, she slipped back out of the room and walked back to Phil’s office. Both of them had had a long, sleepless night and this seemed like just the type of thing that would lift his mood. “Do you have a minute?” She asked, standing in the doorway of his office. He lifted his head from where it had been resting on his hands to look at her. “Trust me,” she added “you’ll want to see this.” Wordlessly he rose from his chair, following her back in the direction from which she had come.  
  
As expected, his face broke out into a huge grin at the scene in the infirmary. He snapped a picture on his phone before turning to whisper to her. “We should wake them. The Silent Brothers will be here in thirty minutes.”  
  
May gestured for him to go ahead, and Phil sauntered down to the furthest bed where Trip and Ward were lying in a heap. He reached out and grabbed Trip’s shoulder, trying to gently shake him awake. It was anything but gentle when Trip startled awake, accidentally kicking Grant in the jaw. His parabatai retaliated by sending a confused kick in the direction of his attacker and soon both of them were in a tangled mess on the floor.  
  
The commotion had also woken Bobbi, who bolted upright in bed. Unfortunately for Lance, this involved one of her elbows driving itself forcefully into his stomach. Skye and Simmons were  roused from their slumber by a very loud “Bloody hell, woman!”  
  
Skye mumbled something unintelligible as she crossed the line between reality and her dreams. Beside her Jemma stretched out, looking like a Disney princess instead of a sleep deprived teenager. Unfortunately, Fitz’s eyes stayed firmly closed.  
  
“We thought you guys might like to know that the Silent Brothers are coming in half an hour.” Phil said, glancing between the bemused Nephilim in front of them.  
  
“We just came to check on Skye and Fitz.” Ward explained, trying to untangle himself from Trip and the blanket they’d been sharing.  
  
“Yeah, we were just keeping an eye on them for Simmons.” Bobbi said, smoothing her hair and looking anywhere but at Lance. “We must have fallen asleep.”  
  
May piped up before anyone else could offer their excuses. “I’m going to make breakfast. Come down when you’re ready.” And with that, she left the room.  
  
It ended up being a pretty simple affair, with different kinds of cereal and jam laid out in the middle of the table next to a stack of toast and a pitcher of orange juice. She also started a large pot of coffee, even though she couldn’t stand the stuff.  
  
Coulson nursed a large mug of it as the others started to trickle in. First Lance and Ward, then Bobbi who had obviously showered and changed. It was quiet for a few minutes before Trip came bursting through the doors with Skye on his back, both of them laughing like mad as Jemma came chasing after them. “Antoine Triplett! You get back here right now!”  
  
“Trip kidnapped me!” Skye said brightly as he set her down in her chair, ruffling her hair fondly as he moved to his own seat.  
  
It was at that moment that Jemma appeared in the doorway. “Do not ever do that again.” She said sternly. Her anger only lasted a moment though. Soon she was at Skye’s side, fussing about her stitches and asking how she felt. “You’re not at all dizzy?”  
  
“I’m fine. See? I even have some color in my cheeks.” She said, poking her face as proof. “Now will you please eat something and stop worrying about me?”  
  
“Well someone has to worry about you, since clearly you’re not going to.” She did sit down though, and spread some strawberry jam onto a slice of toast. “I want you back in bed as soon as you’re done eating.”  
  
“The warden has sentenced me to house arrest.” She said in a dramatic British accent. “If only there were someone who would oppose this conviction.”  
  
No such person spoke up, and all she was met with was a matching set of eye rolls from Jemma and Lance. “Terrible accent.”  


* * *

The Silent Brothers had always set Jemma on edge, and Brother Alphonso was no exception. For the past five minutes she’d been perched on the edge of Skye’s bed while the towering figure loomed over Fitz. She felt the other girl’s hand brush against her own and remembered that as uncomfortable as she was, Skye had never seen a Silent Brother before. She must be scared, at least a little bit.  
  
Fitz’s words echoed through her head. “Be strong, Jemma.” She smiled down at Skye, trying to reassure her by gently squeezing her hand. The other girl’s eyes widened in a way that suggested that Brother Alphonso had said something to her. He was probably explaining the reasoning behind the stitches that held his eyes and lips closed, although Jemma could really only guess.  
  
“He will wake within two days.” Alphonso declared, and his words appeared in her head in a deep tone that she thought was well matched to his statuesque physique. “For now, continue with what you have been doing.”  
  
Jemma shared the news with Skye while Coulson thanked their guest and led him out. “They don’t come around often, do they?” She asked, still eyeing the door that they had disappeared through.  
  
“Not normally.” Simmons confirmed. “But I don’t think I would describe anything as normal right now.”  
  
“Hey Jemma?”  
  
“Yes Skye?”  
  
There was a pause before the younger girl responded. “You know I would have come for you, right? If I had known you were down in that basement…”  
  
“I know Skye. You shouldn’t feel bad though, you did the right thing. If you hadn’t made it back to the institute, nobody would have known where to come looking for us.” She swallowed hard. “I think all three of us would likely be dead right now.”  
  
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay — both of you.” She added, glancing over to Fitz.  
  
Jemma smiled down at her friend. “And I am glad you’re feeling well enough to get kidnapped from the infirmary.”  
  
“In my defense, kidnapping me was all Trip’s idea.” Skye said.  
  
Simmons wasn’t sure if she believed her, but she let it slide. “Well, he made a good point. I want you to rest some more, but I don’t see why you can’t at least do it in the comfort of your own room.”  
  
“Really?” Hope was scrawled all over the younger girl’s face and Jemma couldn’t help the familiar tug of affection for her.  
  
“Yes, really. I’ll go find someone to walk you there.”  
  
Ward turned out to be the first person she ran into, and was more than happy to do as she asked. She reminded him to be mindful of her side, and warned Skye that she’d be right back in the infirmary if she wasn’t resting, and then the two of them were headed out the door. Sky was hobbling a bit and Ward walked patiently alongside her down the hallway and around the corner.  
  
When they were out of view, Jemma closed the door and returned to her chair. “Alright Fitz,” she said, “looks like it’s just you and me now.”

* * *

  
  
 Ward walking her back to her room had quickly turned into Ward carrying her back to her room. “I can walk.” She protested for the umpteenth time.  
  
“That wasn’t walking,” Ward insisted, “that was meandering. Besides, we’re already here.” He said, nudging open her bedroom door.  
  
He’d been planning to set her down on the bed, but it appeared to have another occupant. Lola, Coulson’s beloved cat was curled up in the middle of Skye’s comforter purring loudly as she dozed. “Stupid cat.” He said, setting Skye down gently on her feet. For as long as Ward could remember, he, Bobbi, and Trip had been terrorized by the little black creature, although she and May seemed to have reached some sort of understanding that allowed them to live together in relative peace, and FitzSimmons avoided her enough that they didn’t have any qualms. Really, the only person that the cat had ever liked was Coulson, and now, apparently, Skye.  
  
Grant went to shoo the animal off the bed, but Skye scooped her up first and started talking ridiculous baby talk to her. “Hey little kitty. Did you miss me?” The cat just continued to purr, slowly blinking her golden eyes. Skye must have taken that as a yes. “I missed you too. A big, mean vampire tried to suck all my blood.”  
  
He pulled back the covers for her and helped her settle in, trying to disturb the tender skin on her side as little as possible.  
  
“Simmons was exaggerating.” Skye said, obviously catching on to the way he was watching her injured side. “It’s mostly healed, just a bit sore.”  
  
“That’s good, right?” She nodded in response. “Do you need anything?” He asked, glancing around at the sparsely decorated room.  
  
She considered it for a moment. “Something to read maybe?”  
  
She said she didn't have a particular preference, so he headed off to the library intent on finding a wide selection for her. He made a mental note to bring her the Codex too. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another conversation with her about Shadowhunter weddings right now.  
  
“You stay put.” He told her. “If you’re out of bed when I get back, I’ll personally report you to Simmons.”  
  
“What if I have to pee?”  
  
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Hold it.” He said with finality, then he closed the door behind him.

* * *

  
Ward had only been gone a few minutes when a knock came at Skye’s door. Coulson’s head popped in at her invitation to enter. “Do you have a minute?”  
  
She scratched behind Lola’s ears. “I think I have more minutes than I’ll ever know what to do with.” She told him. “Ward just went to go find me a book.  
  
He sat down on the edge of her bed. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what happens next. There are certain things that need to happen before we can make your adoption official.”  
  
“My adoption…” She had woken that morning with a hazy memory of him asking her to become his family, and she had almost had herself convinced it was all a dream.  
  
He aimed a worried look at her. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”  
  
“No, that’s not it. I just… I sort of thought that had been a dream.” She admitted, watching Lola’s breathing instead of looking at him.  
  
“I promise you, that was one hundred percent real.”  
  
She let the words sink in, along with the reality of the situation. “I have to tell you something.” She admitted, quickly amending the statement when she saw the concern on his face. “It’s about last night.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“The vampire who took me, he wasn’t working alone. He said that he had been ordered to kidnap and kill us by his employer. He said that whoever it was had gotten sick of hearing about ‘your new pet’ and ordered him to kill us and make your life a living hell.”  
  
“So you’re saying that this wasn’t just a handful of rogue vampires?” He asked. “Someone that I know has started hiring downworlders to specifically target the people I care about.”  
  
She shrugged uncomfortably. “It sounded like it.”  
  
“I need to talk to Melinda about this.” He squeezed her hand as he stood up. “Get some rest.”  
  
She nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Can we keep the adoption thing between the two of us for now? I want to wait until Fitz is better before we tell everyone.”  
  
“Of course. Hopefully we’ll have some more answers by then.” He said, letting go of her hand. He paused in the doorway to look back a her. “Please try to rest. I’ll come talk to you as soon as I know something.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll try.” Then just to see that dopey smile he’d been wearing last night she added. “Thanks, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a moment, I'd love to know what you thought!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Human lives are not pieces of string that can be separated out from a knot of others and laid out straight. Families are webs. Impossible to touch one part of it without setting the rest vibrating. Impossible to understand one part without having a sense of the whole.” - Diane Setterfield

Fitz felt like his whole body had been pummeled with rocks, and now every single muscle was a mushed-up disaster held together by skin and bone. “What the hell?"  The question was mostly for himself since his eyes hadn’t adjusted enough for him to see if anyone else was in the room. Unfortunately, his tongue was being about as cooperative as the rest of him and the words came out in an indistinct jumble.  
  
He thought back to the most recent thing he remembered. They had gone out to get more holy water, but then there had been an ambush by some… the memory of the vampires gave him a shock of adrenaline to send him bolting up from where he was laying.  
  
“Fitz!” Relief rushed through him at the sound of Jemma’s voice. “Fitz, it’s alright. You’re safe.”  
  
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room, but soon he could make her face out. “What happened?” His voice was rough from disuse, but the words seemed to be coming out alright.  
  
She flicked on the lamp next to his bed and he realized it must have been the middle of the night, which meant that Jemma had been sleeping in the chair she was curled up in waiting for him to wake up. “What do you remember?” She asked softly.  
  
"I remember leaving for the church, then the vampires and the basement, but nothing after that."  
  
“That’s probably on account of the severe blood loss you suffered shortly after that.” She said. It was silent for a moment before she hesitantly asked him another question. “Do you remember what you said to me before you set off the detonator?”  
  
He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I think I’d rather not.”  
  
“You said ‘Love is strong as death.’” She persisted. “That’s from the song of Solomon. ‘Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death.’ It’s the passage that the wedding ritual comes from.”  
  
“Look, I was pretty sure I was about to die, so if we could just pretend-”  
  
“Did you mean it?”  
  
He removed his hands to look up at her. “What?”  
  
“Do you love me?”  
  
“Yes.” He was confused about a lot of things right now, but he would always know with complete certainty that he loved Jemma Simmons.  
  
She gave a swift nod, as if he had just given her the time or the weather forecast. “Good, because I love you too.”  
  
She said it with such finality that he wondered how he had ever doubted it before. “But then, why would want to be my parabatai?”  
  
“Part of me was still in denial.” She admitted. “Part of me was worried that admitting it to you would destroy our friendship. And the rest of me was scared that you would wake up one day and decide that you wanted to go somewhere else —somewhere that I couldn’t follow.”  
  
He rested the back of his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. “Jemma, you’ve been by my side since the day we met. You were there for every training session and history lesson and experiment gone wrong. You left your family to come with me to D.C. and you've been beside me since the moment we got here. Seven years, and you’ve been beside me the whole damn time.” He picked her hand up off her lap, holding it between his own. “So what makes you think that I would ever want to go anywhere without you ever again?”  
  
He realized, to his horror, that she had started crying. “For two such clever people, we’ve been rather stupid about saying what we feel, haven't we?”  
  
He tugged gently on her hand until she abandoned her chair in favor of sitting on the edge of his bed. “We have, yes.” He agreed, brushing away the tears that had escaped. “But I promise that from now on I’m not leaving your side. The Angel do so to me, and more also,if aught but death part thee and me.”  
  
“You know that vow is meant for parabatai.” She sniffed, resting her head in the crook of his neck as she tucked her feet up on the bed.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss to her temple. “It seemed fitting.”  
  
“I should tell Coulson you’re awake.” Jemma sighed.  
  
“Not just yet.” He told her. “Let me hold you for a while.”

* * *

  
The first thing Skye remembered when she woke up was the conversation she'd had with Coulson the previous morning. The second thing she remembered was an afternoon spent in comfortable silence with Ward, slowly making her way through the stack of books he'd brought her. He had been there when she drifted off, but now the only sign of him was a slip of paper left on her bedside table.  
  
_Rookie: I'll come check on you before breakfast. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. - Grant_  
  
She rolled her eyes at the note, setting it aside as she got out of bed. She felt infinitely better than she had yesterday, and thought a shower might be just the thing to release the last bit of soreness in her muscles.  
  
She was pulling on a dark blue sweater when she heard a knock on her door. "Come in!" She called. As promised, it was Ward.  
  
For a second she thought he would scold her for being out of bed, but instead he commented on how much better she looked.  
  
"A good night's sleep and a hot shower will work wonders." She said.  
  
"Fitz is up." He told her. "If you want, we can go see him before we eat."  
  
She was so relieved to see Fitz alert and communicative that she nearly hugged the air right out of him. "Hello, Skye."  
  
"How do you feel?" She asked.  
  
"As well as I can, I suppose." He said before glancing at Simmons. "I'm in good hands."  
  
Simmons only let them linger for a few minutes before insisting that Fitz needed rest and that she and Ward should be off to breakfast, so they said their goodbyes and let themselves out of the infirmary.  
  
"Did they seem different to you?" Skye asked as she and Ward walked down the hallway towards the dining room.  
  
"Fitz seemed much more lively." He offered.  
  
"Oh, very funny." She said without humor, opening the door. "Not to worry, I'll figure. It out for myself."  
  
May was already seated at the foot of the table, sipping her tea while Coulson looked over her shoulder at the paper she was reading. Skye found herself grinning at how adorably domestic it was before remembering what Simmons had said the other night.  
  
"Where is everyone?" She asked, pulling out her usual chair. "We just saw FitzSimmons, but I thought everyone else would be here."  
  
"Lance and Bobbi are in the kitchen." Melinda supplied, taking another sip of her tea.  
  
"Are you sure?" Grant asked. "I don't hear any shouting."  
  
"Well aren't you just a fountain of sass today?" Skye asked. "If you're so worried, why don't you go check on them?"  
  
"Fine, I will." Grant said, standing up and walking towards the kitchen doors.  
  
"Should we tell them?" Coulson whispered as the door swung shut behind him.  
  
"Tonight." She decided. "When everyone's together."  
  
He nodded his head as the door to the kitchen opened again and Bobbi and Hunter spilled out, followed by a very amused Ward. Bobbi set a batch of muffins on the table, which Lance followed up with a tray of scrambled eggs. He kept grumbling about "ridiculous American measurement systems" and Bobbi kept rolling her eyes at him.  
  
Skye grabbed a muffin and settled in. She had a good feeling about today.

* * *

  
Ward had taken his time, carefully planning his every move. And now, Skye had been lulled into a false sense of power and security. Only one of them would be walking out of this library victorious though, and his skill and experience were sure to overwhelm her quickly.The victorious one would be him.  
  
“So, epic,vampire-slaying Shadowhunter loves board games?” Skye asked. “I’ll admit, not what I expected.”  
  
“It’s not just a board game, it’s a real test of strategy and skill.”  
  
“This is just guessing.” Skye said, surveying her board once more. “Okay ready.”  
  
It took her three turns to sink his first ship. Damn, she was a good guesser…strategist.  
  
“Say it Ward.” She taunted. “Say it.”  
  
“You sank my Battle Ship.” He mumbled. “Shouldn’t you be resting or something? I think you’re overexerting yourself.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. I can kick your butt lying down too.”  
  
“It was one game.” He reminded her. “Best two out of three.”  
  
They started rearranging their boards for the next round. “What’s Idris like?”  
  
Well, that was off-topic. “Distracting me isn’t going to work.” He said.  
  
“I’m not trying to distract you, I really want to know.”  
  
“It’s…” Grant tried to find the right words. “It’s indescribable. Hopefully you’ll get to see it someday.”  
  
“Yeah, someday.” She agreed.

* * *

Skye’s good feeling had lasted all through the morning and well into the afternoon. By the time she left her room for the kitchen she was nearly walking on air.  
  
"Someone looks like they're on cloud nine." Trip said. The two of them had volunteered to cook dinner that night, and Skye was excited to see Trip in action. His culinary skills were exceptional.  
  
"I'm having a good day." She said, washing her hands and drying them off. "Fitz is awake, everyone is alive, and I beat Ward at Battle Ship this morning."  
  
"Seriously? He always wins." Trip said.  
  
Skye gave a blasé shrug. "Not always."  
  
She really liked cooking with Trip, and she only had to ask him to get things off high shelves for her twice, which she considered a win. By the end of it they had everything they needed for a taco bar, plus a tray of lemon bars for dessert.  
  
"I'll get the table set, you finish setting this out." Trip said, pulling a stack of plates out of the cupboard. They finished setting everything out just as the rest of the group started to trickle in.  
  
"What's the occasion?" Fitz asked, piling toppings onto a tortilla. Skye pretended not to notice that he was holding hands with Simmons under the table.  
  
"Coulson and I have an announcement to make."  
  
The whole table went silent, save for May who was pouring herself a glass of water. "Well, are you going to tell us?" She asked calmly.  
  
Skye took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to phrase it. Coming up blank, she looked to Coulson for some help. "I've decided to make Skye a legal part of my family." He said.  
  
Down the table she heard Hunter ask Bobbi about the legality of a fifteen year old getting married.  
  
"Adoption, Hunter. He's talking about adopting me." Skye clarified.  
  
Lance looked visibly relieved. "Oh thank the angel, I thought I had really misread your relationship."  
  
"That's wonderful, Skye! I'm so happy for you." Simmons said, and the rest of the table offered their congratulations as well.  
  
"I have another announcement." Coulson said once the well-wishing had died down. "This one isn't so happy."  
  
Trip ran a finger along the rim of his glass. "What's wrong?"  
  
"This morning I spoke with the Consul about recent events. The Council needs to know all the facts about what happened before they can decide what to do about the vampire clan here in D.C. and he thinks that your testimony will be crucial." He said looking between Skye and FitzSimmons. "As soon as Fitz is well enough to travel, we're going to Idris so the three of you can address the Council."  
  
Skye couldn't put her finger on it, but something about this announcement made the trip feel like a goodbye instead of a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Geography and mileage mean nothing. Separate is a single word that covers all distances that aren't together.” - Rivera Sun

“You’re packing.” Lance looked up from the overstuffed suitcase to see Bobbi standing in the door to his room.  
  
He tried to shove another shirt in before giving up. “That is what one typically does when leaving one’s current residence.” He said drily. “I’m going to Idris with the others.”  
  
“That’s a pretty big suitcase for a two day trip.” Bobbi pointed out.  
  
He sighed, shutting said suitcase and moving it to the floor. “Sorry, Love. I think this is a bit more permanent than that.”  
  
“Your parents want you to move back to London.” She guessed.  
  
Lance nodded. “I talked to my Mum on the phone this morning. She and Dad have been out of their minds since they found out what happened to Jemma. As soon as she’s done in Idris, they’re bringing us both home indefinitely.”  
  
“I can’t believe this. Just when it felt like everything was starting to fall into place, we’re getting torn apart.” She said. “How did Jemma take the news?”  
  
“I actually haven’t told her yet.” Lance said, scrubbing his face with his hands.  
  
“You leave the day after tomorrow.”  
  
“I know.” He said, voice teetering on the edge of a whine. “I just can’t stand to see her upset though. You know she’s gonna be heartbroken.”  
  
“Not just her.” Bobbi said. She sat down on the edge of his bed, and he sat beside her. “She’s gotten close to all of us, and she and Skye are thick as thieves. I’m assuming Fitz will be joining you? It doesn't take a genius to figure out what’s going on with him and Jemma.”  
  
He nodded again. “Yeah, most likely. Can’t imagine Mum and Dad will be thrilled about that development either. Jem’s always been their baby.”  
  
“Well, if you ever feel like getting all rebellious and running away, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” She said, nudging his shoulder. He figured that was as close as she was going to get to sentimental, so before he could talk himself out of it, he reached over and pulled her lips to his.  
  
She kissed the same way she fought —fluidly, passionately, violently — and there wasn’t a single part of him that was surprised. One of her affectionate little nips had left his bottom lip bleeding, but the taste of blood only made the taste of her sweeter. She’d moved to straddle his lap at some point, and he had one hand on her thigh and one buried in her hair when someone cleared their throat from the doorway.  
  
He took a moment to thank the Angel that it was Trip, not Coulson or May or Jemma. “It’s about damn time.” He said, shit-eating grin stretching from ear to ear.  
  
“Trip.” Bobbi said in a warning tone that reminded Lance that the two of them were practically siblings.  
  
Trip mimicked a locking motion over his lips. “I saw nothing.” He said before carrying on down the hall. “And close the door!” He added over his shoulder.  
  
With that out of the way, Lance was free to return his attention to the task at hand. “I think we were in the middle of something.” He said, trailing his lips along the curve of Bobbi's neck.  
  
“Were we?” She asked innocently. “I forgot.”  
  
“Let me remind you.”

* * *

  
The infirmary was empty for the first time in what felt like weeks. Skye supposed that was a good thing, but it did make finding Simmons a bit more difficult. The library was also empty, as well as the training room,so Skye made her way to Jemma's bedroom. "Hey, it's me. Can I come in?" She asked knocking on the closed door.  
  
She heard a sniffle and a bit of readjusting before her friend spoke. "It's open."  
  
The invitation was a bit lackluster by Jemma's standards, but Skye took it anyway. The scene in front of her nearly broke her heart. Fitz was sitting on the bed next to Simmons, who had clearly been crying. There were various half filled boxes sitting at their feet, containing photographs and mugs and neatly folded sweaters. "What's going on?" She asked. She had a pretty good idea already, but she needed to hear the words before she would believe it.  
  
"Lance just told me this morning." Jemma said. "Our dad's meeting us in Idris. Once our hearing with the council is over, Lance and I will be returning to London."  
  
"For how long?"  
  
She wiped another tear from her cheek. "As far as I can tell, permanently."  
  
Skye crossed the room, wrapping her friend up in a a tight hug as another wave of tears came spilling over. "Isn't there anything we can do to change their minds?"  
  
"I don't think so." Fitz said. "They've made their decision."  
  
"What about you?" Skye asked. "Are you staying?"  
  
She could already tell from the guilty look on his face that she wasn't going to like the answer. "I'm coming back here for a few days to pack up the last of our things, then I'll be going back as well."  
  
"There's nothing we can do?" Skye asked again.  
  
Jemma shook her head. "I'm so sorry Skye."  
  
"It's not your fault." She assured the older girl. "This is all because of whoever's trying to get back at Coulson."  
  
"Well, letting them split us up feels a lot like letting them win, doesn't it?" Fitz said. Skye couldn't deny that he had a good point. It was like forcing FitzSimmons to leave was a consolation prize for whoever had tried to have them killed. It didn't hurt nearly as much as their deaths would have, but she knew their absence would still sting.  
  
"I should go pack too." She said, struggling to get the words out around the lump in her throat. "If you guys need anything, just ask."  
  
They both gave her a half smile that didn't quite reach their eyes. "Thank you Skye."

* * *

 

Phil was pacing, and there was nothing short of tying him to his chair that Melinda could do to stop him. She had thought that this discussion had been ended the other night when he agreed to keep the truth about Skye's parents from her for a while longer. Apparently recent events had made him reconsider.  
  
“She deserves to know.” He said again. “If she finds out I kept this from her, she’ll be furious.”  
  
“You know how she is Phil! If she finds out the truth about her parents, she’ll find some way to be guilty about it. Do you really want to put that on her conscience?”  
  
He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. This isn’t just about her finding out who her parents were. You’ve heard the stories, you know the atrocities that Johnson was accused of. If there’s any truth to the rumors, Skye might be affected and not even know yet. She needs to be ready for the worst.”  
  
“Do you really think it’s going to help her if you incite a bunch of unnecessary fear?”  
  
“I don’t know, Melinda!” He snapped before lowering his voice. “I don’t know. That’s why I asked you.”  
  
Melinda crossed her arms. “I’m sorry Phil, but you’re going to be her father in a few days, not me. I can’t tell you what’s best for her.”  
  
“Of course you can, you’re—“ He tried again. “You and Skye have spent a lot of time together. You’ve trained her and taught her for months now, so why are you trying to opt out of having an opinion in this?”  
  
This time it was Melinda’s turn to raise her voice. “I’m not her mother! I’m nobody’s mother, Phil.”  
  
The words hung in the air for a moment, dangling delicately between them before the silence was finally broken.  
  
“Bullshit.” He said finally. “That’s a lie and you know it. Who was it that dug up stories about Trip’s grandfather for him, and got birthday presents for Grant when his family stopped sending them? Who brought Bobbi her favorite ice-cream when she came home from her first date crying, and reminded Fitzsimmons to sleep when they got caught up in their designs? You did all that, Mel. You may not be their mother, but you’ve been mothering them for years. You could do the same for Skye if you’d just let yourself love her.”  
  
“Like how I let myself love you?” She asked, voice barely breaking a whisper as if saying the words too loud would shatter the fragile secret. Instead they seemed to pull the air from the room, at least until the door burst open and Skye came spilling in with tears staining her cheeks.  
  
“You can’t make them go!” She sobbed, making a beeline for Phil’s arms.  
  
It took Melinda a moment to figure out what she meant, but Phil caught on right away. “I’m so sorry Skye.” He said, stroking her long hair and she cried into his shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do.”  
  
The thought seemed to bring on a fresh wave of tears, which Phil comforted the girl through as if he’d been doing it her whole life. He was going to be a great father, and for some reason the realization hit her as sharply as a spear to the stomach.  
  
She set her hand on Skye’s shoulder, gently rubbing her thumb over the fabric of her sweater. “They’re just doing what they think is right.”  
  
"It doesn't feel right." Skye sniffled, then suddenly Melinda had an armful of emotional teenage girl.  
  
"I know." She soothed, rubbing small circles between the girl's shoulder blades. She looked to Phil for some help over Skye's shoulder, but her parabatai just gave her a self-satisfied look that screamed 'I told you so'  and nothing else. "Look, there's nothing that can be done about FitzSimmons leaving. you should focus your attentions on other things right now, like making sure Jemma's last day here is a good one."  
  
Skye sniffled again, finally pulling away and wiping her tears away with her sleeve. "You're right. I shouldn't spend all day crying about it. I'm gonna go see if FitzSimmons need anything." She gave Phil one more hug before walking out the door.  
  
"Looks like she cares about you wether you feel the same or not." Phil said almost As soon as the door had closed.  
  
Melinda just shook her head. She had no choice but to love Skye, no choice but to love any of them really. Since she'd arrived though, Skye had been slowly reviving a part of Melinda’s soul that she had thought was long dead — permanently ripped away seven years ago.    
  
"So did you." She said. "Look how that turned out."

 

* * *

Skye had insisted on making Jemma’s last day in D.C. as perfect as possible, and somehow Grant had ended up being her personal assistant on this endeavor. Not that he minded, he’d take any chance to spend time with Skye. So, he had been dragged to the grocery store, then to the kitchen for two hours to make Simmons’s favorite dinner. She’d burst into tears as soon as she saw what Skye had done for her.  
  
She burst into tears a few times that night. Once when Coulson made a toast to her and Fitz, then again when May had brought her a cup of what she called “proper tea” while Trip set up the scrabble board.  
  
And now, as she bisected ‘cast’ with the word ‘absent’ on the board, she was starting to tear up again. Almost as if she could sense the impending tears, Skye was out of her seat and at her friend’s side.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Jemma said, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist. “Every time I think it’s over, it’s like it hits me all over again.”  
  
Skye was squeezing her shoulders so tight, Ward thought she might actually hurt the other girl. “I don’t think I can even cry anymore. I’m out of tears.”  
  
“You’re probably dehydrated. You should have a glass of water.” Simmons sniffed.  
  
“I’ll get you both one.” Ward offered, bolting out of his seat.  
  
Trip rose from his seat as well. “I’ll help you.”  
  
He was fairly certain everyone in the room saw right through the plan, but no one said anything about it so the two of them marched out or the library and towards the kitchen.  
  
“You doing okay?” His parabatai asked as they made their way down the hall.  
  
Grant shrugged. “Of course. Things change, people leave. It’s not the end of the world.”  
  
“You sure? Because, the look on your face in there was bordering on murderous.”  
  
“It’s just…” He struggled for the right words. “I can kill demons and fight vampires and all this other stuff, but I can’t protect the people I lo- the people I care about from something as trivial as sadness. It just makes me seem kind of useless.”  
  
“I know what you mean. I’ve been trying everything to put a positive spin on this, but every time I think ‘at least I won’t walk in on Bobbi and Hunter making out again’ I also think about how sad she’s going to be once he’s gone. It’s gonna be so quiet without FitzSimmons here to blow things up and fight like an old married couple — even if I still don’t understand half the words they use. Then I think ‘at least we’ll still have Skye’ but that just makes me feel like I’m using her as some sort of consolation prize.”  
  
Ward gave his friend a sad smile. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when Antoine Triplett couldn’t be positive about something.”  
  
“Dark times, man. These are dark times.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Forgiving isn't something you do for someone else. It's something you do for yourself. It's saying, … ‘You don't get to trap me in the past. I am worthy of a future.’” - Jodi Picoult

Melinda hadn’t been to her mother’s house in years. However, as soon as she opened the front door, she could tell that nothing much had changed since she had been there last. There were a few new photographs on the mantle and a new lamp, but for the most part, it was just as she remembered.  
  
Phil had offered to take the couch since the kids would be taking up both the guest rooms. Against her will, her mind pulled her back to all of their visits here as teenagers — staying up all night talking about nothing and everything, and always sharing a room despite there being two available. She let him be noble, but asked if he was certain a few times first. She didn't bring up their teenage escapades and neither did he. Besides, her mother was in Taiwan on business, so Melinda would be taking her room and she really wasn't sure if she was  prepared to share her mother’s bed with her parabatai.  
  
Time differences had meant that they arrived just after dinner time in Idris, so they spent a good portion of the evening settling in before Phil made them a small dinner. He and Hunter went into town afterwards to take care of some business and FitzSimmons had decided to try and get some sleep. The past several days had been emotionally exhausting for the two of them, and the stress was beginning to take a physical toll as well.  
  
Skye was the only one still up when she came downstairs for a cup of tea. “I can’t believe how much hair Coulson used to have.” She said, looking at the pictures above the fire. “This is where you grew up?”  
  
Melinda shook her head. “No, my mother bought this house when she first became the consul. I don’t think she really intended to stay here, but by the time her term was over, I was all grown up and she had taken a liking to the place.”

  “Where did you live?” Skye asked.  
  
“Parabatai can’t be separated, so I stayed in New York with Phil.”  
  
Skye turned away from the pictures, sitting down on the sofa. “That must have been hard, being away from your mom for so long. The Consul’s term is ten years, right?”  
  
Mel nodded, joining her. “It was’t that bad. She wrote me a letter every week to ask how I was doing and tell me about what was happening here.”  
  
“That’s sweet.” Skye smiled.  
  
“Sort of. She wrote them all in Chinese so I had no choice but to practice.”  
  
The admission earned her one of Skye’s genuine laughs. “She’s strict about keeping traditions?”  
  
“I think she was just afraid that if I stopped speaking Chinese, she’d loose a connection to me.”  
  
It was silent for a moment before Skye asked another question. “Why didn’t you and Coulson come with her instead of staying behind?”  
  
“It’s probably hard for you to imagine since D.C. is the only Institute you’ve seen, but the one in New York is huge. There was a real sense of community there, and we were afraid that leaving for Idris would mean missing out on that community. We just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. ”  
  
“Then why did you?”  
  
Skye wasn’t stupid. Melinda knew she had to have heard about ‘the Cavalry’ at some point. So few people knew what had really happened though, she was bound to be curious.  
  
She took a deep breath, slowed her heart rate and cleared her mind. Maybe she needed to tear that part of herself open again before it could heal for good, like a broken bone that’s grown back together the wrong way.  
  
“Seven years ago, we were starting to make amends with the vampires. There had been a bloody dispute in Asia about eight years before, and relations were still a bit… rocky.”  
  
“Yeah, Ward was telling me about that a few weeks ago. He said Shadowhunters were messing with Angels’ blood and experimenting on vampires.”  
  
_Just one Shadowhunter._ She mentally corrected the girl. “Right.” She said aloud. “The Clave was keeping a close eye on them, but the New York clan had made an ally named Eva. She was a Shadowhunter who had been stripped of her marks and banished from St. Petersburg for falling in love with a mundane. Eva became obsessed with getting revenge on the Clave. The vampires realized they had a common interest and agreed to turn her. It wasn’t enough for Eva though. She turned her daughter, Katja, and fed her demon’s blood when she emerged from the ground. She thought it would make her stronger, superior.”  
  
“That’s horrible. What happened to her?”  
  
Melinda took another breath, letting the air fill her lungs before pushing it out her nose. “The pain of the transformation drove her insane, soon she was wreaking havoc on the city while her mother facilitated kills for her. Eventually a group from the Institute stumbled upon her — or maybe she wanted to be found— but they were completely in over their heads.”  
  
“Ward said there were over two dozen of them.” Skye interjected.  
  
Melinda shook her head. “That number gets bigger every time someone tells that story. There were seven of them — just a bunch of teenagers, kids really. Katja and Eva had them trapped, so I went in… and I did what had to be done. Coulson got the offer to come to D.C. a month later, and we left.” She didn’t mention the way the whole city seemed to be oozing blood from all its little cracks after that, how she couldn’t bear to walk past central park and hear the playful screams of the children running around anymore. Sometimes she thought that was the worst part, that the things she had once found joy in were suddenly painful.  
  
“I- I don’t know what to say.” Skye said, and Melinda realized she’d almost forgotten the girl’s presence. “It wasn't your fault you know. Her mother’s choice is what killed her, not you.”  
  
“Eva wasn’t holding the one holding the blade.”  
  
Skye glanced down at her hands. “No, but what she did to Katja was worse than death.” Then, just like in the office, Skye was wrapping her up in a hug without any sort of warning. “Katja can't forgive you.” She whispered. “But you need to forgive yourself. You did the right thing."  
  
It had been ages since Melinda had let herself be comforted like this, but somehow with Skye’s arms around her shoulders, she felt as if a part of her was starting to stitch itself back together.

 

* * *

Fitz had slept poorly, but when Jemma greeted him in the kitchen with a hot cup of tea and a kiss, his whole morning seemed to brighten up.  
  
“Good morning, lovebirds.” Skye said, emerging from the hallway. “Don’t let Hunter catch you canoodling, he’ll give Fitz the whole ‘if you hurt her I’ll feed your kidneys to a demon’ talk.”  
  
“Liver.” Fitz corrected.  
  
“Sorry?” Jemma asked scrunching her eyebrows together in that adorable way she did.  
  
Fitz stirred his tea, trying to look casual. “He said he’d feed my liver to a demon, not my kidneys. Although, really there’s nothing stopping them from getting all of my internal organs if Hunter incapacitates me and offers me up to the nearest hellhound.”  
  
“And when exactly did he say this?”  
  
“Last night, just after he got back from wherever he went with Coulson.” He told her. “You know how he is, he didn’t mean anything by it.”  
  
“Like hell I didn’t.” The man himself said, swaggering into the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of tea as well. “You hurt my baby sister and you’ll be buried so deep, your ghost won’t be able to find your body.”  
  
Jemma made a little disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. “Honestly Lance, I can take care of myself. I don’t need you doing this ridiculous alpha-male routine with someone who has literally been willing to die for me.”  
  
“She’s got a point.” Skye piped up.  
  
Lance let it go after one last pointed look at Fitz. “So, who’s ready for a super fun day of stupid questions?”  
  
“I don’t think it’ll be that bad.” Jemma said. “The Council just wants to get a good understanding of what happened, know all the facts.”  
  
“You’d better go get ready.” May warned as she came down the hall. She was already dressed and ready for the day, but reached for some tea. “We’re leaving soon.”  
  
With that information, the four of them scrambled to get ready for the day.  
  
The Council met in a large, circular chamber that sort of reminded Fitz of Parliament, or a courtroom on television. He sat with the others on a set of benches off to the side, while a gathering of Shadowhunters from around the world sat on tiered seats overlooking the center of the room. Coulson had been called to take the floor first after the Consul had called the meeting into order. “That’s the Consul?” Skye whispered while everyone else was paying attention to Coulson’s testimony. She glanced pointedly at the harsh looking man sitting front and center among the crowd of representatives.  
  
“Fury.” He confirmed. “He was the head of the New York Institute before he got offered the job. Now Maria Hill’s in charge, she’s the woman just to his right.”  
  
May nudged them and motioned for them to be quiet, so he spent the rest of Coulson’s speech running his thumb in slow circles over the back of Jemma’s hand. She could try to hide it all she wanted, but he knew she was nervous. The suspicion was confirmed when Coulson sat back down and her gentle hold on his hand turned to a death grip as they waited to see who would be called up next. It turned out to be Skye, which seemed to put Jemma in just as much distress as taking the floor herself would have.  
  
A heavily accented man in the back spoke up. “You’re… Skye?”  
  
“Yes.” She said, shifting from foot to foot.    
  
“Tell us what happened the night you were kidnapped.” The Consul said.  
  
“I was walking to church with FitzSimmons, they said they needed to get some holy water…” Se started.  
  
As Skye’s story went on, Fitz’s eyes roved over the assembled Shadowhunters. When they fell on a woman with dark hair streaked with crimson, he nudged Jemma’s side and nodded towards her.  
  
“Is that ..?”  
  
“Victoria Hand?” He finished. “It is.”  
  
Jemma looked as if he’d just told her the Queen was present. “I can’t believe the Inquisitor is here.”  
  
The room fell silent as Skye finished recounting her tale, and Fitz returned his attention to what was being said.  
  
“How is it you ended up at the D.C. Institute?” A young man with dark hair spoke up. “Did you go there to train?”  
  
Skye swallowed visibly. “No, Coulson found me fighting a demon in an alley near the Institute. My whole life I’ve been able to see things others couldn’t, but he explained to me what I am and offered to teach me how to fight.”  
  
“And before that?” The man asked.  
  
“I was in foster care.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? Your parents, are they dead?”  
  
Jemma tensed at the question. Fitz was about ready to stand up and say something when Coulson coolly intervened. “If I’m not mistaken, Mr.Ward, we’re here to discuss an issue with the vampires of D.C., not to ask about the family life of a fifteen year-old girl.”  
  
“Ward? That must be Grant’s older brother.” Jemma whispered. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Grant had some serious bad blood with his family. Fitz had never actually asked him about it, but he knew Ward and his brother hadn’t spoken in years. He didn’t know what this man had done to his friend, but Fitz instantly hated him for it.  
  
“He’s right.” Fury agreed. “Does anyone have any relevant questions?”  
  
“I’d like to know more about this Ian Quinn.” Hand said. “You said he mentioned an employer?”  
  
“I don’t know who he meant by that, all I know is that it’s someone who knows Coulson.  Quinn said his employer wanted him to destroy Coulson’s life.”  
  
“Do you know who would want to do that?” Hill asked, looking over to Coulson.  
  
He shook his head. “If I’ve stirred up contempt with anyone, they haven't mentioned it to me.”  
  
Fury shrugged. “I’d say the point’s been made quite eloquently.”  
  
When they finally let Skye sit back down it was Jemma’s turn to take the floor. She gave his hand a firm squeeze as she rose from the bench, then faced the Council alone. Her story started out the same as Skye’s had, but branched off after they were knocked out. When she said she didn’t know what happened after that, Fitz was called up to help fill in some of the blanks.  
  
“Do you two always finish each other’s sentences?” Asked the representative from Sofia. “It’s very cute.”   Beside him Jemma started blushing as Fury shushed the chuckling Shadowhunters around him. “If nobody has any more questions, let’s all take an hour for lunch then reconvene here to decide a course of action.”  
  
Now that was the best idea Fitz had heard all day — he was starving, and from the general murmur of agreement in the rom he could tell the sentiment was a shared one.  
  
“I’m so glad that’s over.” Jemma admitted as they walked out of the building, trailing behind the rest of the group. “I was so nervous.”    
He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips and kissed the soft skin on the back of her hand. “You did great Jemma, just like you always do.”  
  
“Have I told you I love you today?” She grinned.  
  
Fitz hummed dramatically as he pretended to think about it. “You know, I think it may have slipped your mind.”  
  
“It did? Well, why don’t I make it up to you with a sandwich?”  
  
He was about to suggest she make up for it with kiss instead when his stomach let out a loud gurgle. “I think I would like that very much.” He laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.” - Helen Keller

The council didn’t need them back until they had made their decision, so they walked around after lunch, exploring the shops and businesses. Skye could see Jemma drooping as they went and she knew exactly why. As they made their way down the street, she reached out and grabbed her friend’s mitten-clad hand.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m ruining all the fun aren’t I?” She asked.  
  
“No, of course not. I just hate seeing you so sad.” Skye said. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”  
  
“Figure out a way that I can stay?” Jemma suggested.  
  
Skye gave her a sad smile. “If only it were that easy.”  
  
“Look on the bright side,” Fitz said “Jemma’ll be eighteen in nine months. After that, she can go wherever she likes, parental approval or not.”  
  
The words stopped Skye dead in her tracks. “Oh my gosh, that’s it! Jemma, you’re not eighteen yet!”    
  
“Yes, I know. That’s why I have to go back to London.” She said, as if explaining it to a small child.  
  
“Not necessarily.” Skye said, and May’s words from the previous night echoed through her mind. Parabatai can’t be separated, so I stayed in New York with Phil.  
  
“Her mum and dad won’t change their minds.” Fitz said.  
  
“That doesn’t matter. You’re young enough that you can still take part in a parabatai ceremony.”  
  
A look of realization dawned on both their faces. “And if your parabatai lived at the D.C. Institute…” Fitz said.  
  
“My parents couldn’t make me leave! Skye your brilliant!” Jemma exclaimed, throwing her arms around the other girl.  
  
Trying to stifle her grin, Skye looked between her friends. “So how does this work? Do I have to get on one knee or something?”  
  
“I think we should probably go tell Coulson and May first.” Jemma laughed.  
  
“And Hunter.” Fit added. “This is probably something he should know.”  
  
Skye couldn’t help it, she squealed a little. “This is the best trip ever!” 

* * *

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Trip asked for what felt like the thousandth time that night. “You know Coulson trusts Raina about as far as he can throw her.”  
  
“Which is why we need to do this while he’s in Idris.” Ward said.  
  
“This is it.” Bobbi said, pointing to a towering brick building surrounded by a decorative metal fence.  
  
“Maybe we should tell him first.” Trip went on, even as he followed his friends up the paved walkway. “Doing this behind his back just doesn’t seem cool.”  
  
“What is it that Hunter’s always saying?” Ward asked, turning his head to look at Bobbi.  
  
“It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” She said. “And in this case, I have to agree. If nothing comes of it, then that’s it and Coulson never has to know. But Raina might know something, and if she does, we owe it to Coulson to find out what.”  
  
They’d arrived at the door now and Bobbi and Ward were both looking expectantly at him. “Fine. I’ll do it for Coulson.” He said, then jabbed the doorbell before he could think better of it.  
  
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer, then the lock clicked and the door opened up to reveal Raina in one of her signature floral dresses and a pair of heels. He always forgot how tiny she was, only to be reminded every time their paths crossed that she was probably light enough for him to easily benchpress. Even with the added height from her shoes she was several inches shorter than all three of them, which made her greeting (if you could call it that) all the more ironic. “What is it now little Nephilim?”  
  
“We were hoping you might have some information for us.” Bobbi said in her most businesslike tone.  
  
“About?” Raina prompted. Her bright gold eyes flicked between the three of them as she arched a perfectly shaped brow.  
  
“A vampire named Ian Quinn.” Ward said.  
  
Raina looked as if she’d just been made to swallow a sip of lemon juice. “I suppose you’d better come in. This could take a while.”  
  
They followed the click of her shoes against the hardwood into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. Trip made a mental note to ask Bobbi if it was normal to wear heels around the house at nine at night. When Raina stopped, they were in a modern sitting room with boldly colored furniture and extravagant drapery. “Have a seat.” She said, perching on the edge of a chaise lounge.  
  
Bobbi settled into a large bubble-shaped chair, while he and Grant were left to squeeze onto the love seat.    
  
“Quinn came to me several weeks ago asking all kinds of strange questions.” Raina said.  
  
“Strange how?” Trip asked.  
  
“He was completely consumed with wild ideas. Make no mistake, my powers are extensive, but what he was asking could have gotten us both killed. I told him as much too, I’m assuming I was correct?”  
  
“Sort of. He was killed by a Shadowhunter after he kidnapped her.” Ward said, and Trip didn’t miss the harsh tone to his words. “Any idea why he would have done that?”  
  
“Not unless he wanted to experiment on her. When he came here he seemed mostly interested in the affects of demonic and angelic blood on Shadowhunters.”  
  
The thought of Skye strapped to some exam table somewhere being poked and prodded like a giant lab rat sent chills up Trip’s spine. “You wouldn’t have caught his employer’s name by chance?” Trip asked.  
  
“Sadly, Quinn wasn’t that stupid. I can tell you that he probably lives out of town though. Quinn said he would need to call his employer, not meet with him or speak with him. So, either he likes keeping his henchmen at arm’s length or he lives in a different city.” She paused. “I have to say, whoever it is was lucky Quinn was killed instead of captured. The Nephilim need no reminders of what happened to the last person who asked these kinds of questions.”  
  
Trip felt Ward’s hand come to rest on his arm, an attempt at calming reassurance. He knew too well what happened when these questions were asked — good people died, people like his father.  
  
“Well,” Bobbi rose from her chair “it’s more than we knew when we came.”  
  
“Always a joy to share my knowledge with you young people.” Raina said, walking with them back to the front door. “And yet, so rare for you to hold onto it.”  
  
It suddenly hit Trip that Raina was at least one hundred years old, despite looking less than twenty-five. He wondered how much she really knew, how much she’d seen in all that time. If he had all that floating around in his head, he’d speak in riddles too. “Thank you for your time.” He said as Bobbi and Ward filed out onto the walkway. “We’re sorry to have kept you for so long.” Maybe it was a bit much, but his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, especially when it came to powerful warlock women with gorgeous amber eyes… wait, what?  
  
“ _You_ can take up as much of my time as you want.” She said. Had she been this close a second ago? “If you need anything else,” her gaze wandered up and down his body for a split second that may have been hours long “you’ll find my number in your phone. Good night.”  
  
And just like that the door was closed and he was jogging to meet Grant and Bobbi at the gate, pulling out his phone as he did. Sure enough, there was a new number listed for ‘Raina’ in his contacts.  
  
“What was that about?” Bobbi asked as they made their way down the sidewalk.  
  
He stared at the screen of his phone for another moment before responding. “I think the high warlock of D.C. just gave me her number.”

* * *

“I got you something.” Phil said, as he walked with Skye out of the Consul’s office. May was trailing behind the two, watching subtly enough that Phil knew Skye couldn’t sense it. Much as he appreciated her giving them a little space, he wished she would — could — share in the happy moment with them.  
  
Skye’s adoption had just been finalized, she and Simmons had announced their decision to become parabatai the previous afternoon, and all of them would be returning to the Institute after dinner.  
  
“Really? You shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.” She said.  
  
“Just open it.” He said, handing her the little box.  
  
She started sliding the bow off, still grinning like a fool. “You know, I was going to get you one of those ‘world’s best dad’ coffee mugs, but apparently they don’t sell those here…” She trailed off as she flipped the box open. “Your family ring.” She said, recognizing the bright flames traced into the metal.  
  
“ _Our_ family ring.” He corrected her. “You should try it on.”  
  
Tears welled up in her dark brown eyes as soon as she slid it onto her finger. “Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never been a part of something like this, what we have in D.C. and I … thank you. You didn’t just give me a home and a dad, you gave me a family and I’ve never had that before.”  
  
“You have it now.” He said, pulling her into a hug. “Anyone who wants to take that away from you is going to have to go through me first.” He meant it too. The feeling of being solely responsible for another person was overwhelming, but his love for her was able to outshine all of his doubts. He was going to protect that with everything he had.  
  
"Don't tempt fate." She warned, wiping her eyes and straightening up. “We've already had to deal with crazy vampires."  
  
"Fair point. Lance said he's taking you and Jemma to have lunch with their father?"  
  
"Yeah, he still doesn't know about the whole parabatai thing, and Jemma thought it would be best to tell him somewhere public." She glanced up at the clock tower. "Oh, I should probably get going to that. It's later than I thought."  
  
He gave her a hug. “Have a good time. Oh, and Skye?”  
  
“Yeah Dad?” She asked, pulling away. The words warmed his heart in a way that he was still getting used to.  
  
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time here. I know you were excited to see more of Idris, but with everything that’s been going on I just want to get back to the Institute as soon as possible.”  
  
“I understand. If it makes you feel better, I’m actually a little homesick already.”    
  
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Well, I promise you that we will be home tonight. You’d better get to your lunch first, though.”  
  
She gave him a smile and a wave over her shoulder as she dashed down the street.  
  
“It’s been a long time since I saw you this happy.” Melinda said, appearing at his side.  
  
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been this happy.” He admitted. “And you? You seem different. Has something changed?”  
  
She was quiet as they walked, and he could tell she was deciding exactly what she should tell him. “Everything’s changed.” She said finally. “But I think it’s changed for the better.”  
  
Well, that was one of her more cryptic responses to be sure. He didn’t ask her about it though, and she didn’t offer anything more as they continued on their way back to her mother’s house. He tried to fight it, but the back of his mind was drifting back to a time when he would have offered her his arm, and she — quiet rebel that she was — would have taken it and kissed his cheek for good measure. Those were careless times, when rules more like guidelines and the law seemed much easier than it really was. They were foolish times too, back when the two of them had tried to have it all and nearly lost it all in the process.  
  
“I know I told you that you should keep information about Skye’s parents from her, but Johnson’s name has already stared cropping up in conversations about her and I’m certain it’s only going to get worse from here. With everything that’s happened, and everything that’s about to happen, it’s probably best that you address it with her in private before someone else unloads all the gossip on her.”  
  
The fact that people were gossiping about her at all made Phil’s blood boil, but May was right. He needed to face the rumors head on and come clean to Skye. “I just want to let her be happy for a while.” He said.  
  
“And that’s not wrong.” Melinda assured him. “You can’t let this go unaddressed forever though. If Skye finds out you knew and kept this from her, it could damage your relationship permanently.”  
  
He nodded resolutely. “You’re right. Thank you Melinda.”

* * *

If there was one thing Grant Ward could rely on, it was Melinda May’s punctuality. She somehow always managed to show up right on time, never early or late. It had been a pain growing up, when she would hastle him about being late fore his lessons, but as he stood in front of the portal, he took comfort in knowing that she would somehow make sure that everyone was through at the exact time they had arranged. Sure enough,the clock had just struck two when FitzSimmons and Hunter stumbled through, followed closely by Coulson, Skye, and May.  
  
There was a general commotion amongst the group that included multiple girlish squeals, one tackle, and a myriad of questions, all culminating in a very shrill whistle from Coulson that made everyone freeze. Bobbi and hunter had ended up on the floor, Trip was squishing FitzSimmons together in a two armed hug, and Ward had Skye hanging onto him like a monkey.  
  
"We have a lot to discuss." Coulson said. "Why don't we all go to the library and talk?"  
  
There was a general mumbling in agreement as Trip released FitzSimmons and Bobbi helped Hunter up off the ground. Ward managed to put Skye back on her own two feet, but she held on tight to him as the others filed out into the hallway. He could see his parabatai give him a knowing look over her head, but then the door closed behind him and all he could focus on was Skye.  
  
He was about to speak when she yanked at his shirt and pulled his face closer to hers, giving him less than a second to think about how deceptively strong she was for someone her size before she was kissing him. His mind had just caught up with what was happening when she pulled away.  
  
"I really missed you." She breathed, still holding onto his shirt.  
  
He leaned down to kiss her again, properly this time, with one hand on her back and the other buried in her hair. "I really missed you too."  
  
With a sigh, she stepped away from him and released his shirt. "As much as I'd love to stand here kissing you all day, we should really get to the library. The last thing we need is for my dad to come looking for us."  
  
"So it's final then?" He asked, following her into the hallway. "You're officially a Coulson?"  
  
The smile she gave him seemed light up the whole hallway. "Yup. Family ring and everything." She said, holding up her hand to show him the silver and saffron on her finger.  
  
He held her wrist steady to inspect it, then laced their fingers together so they could hold hands as they walked. "It suits you." He said. "Although, Coulson does seem like the protective type. You don’t think he’ll start glaring at me when we’re together, do you?”  
  
"I doubt it. It would be fair though, since your brother clearly dislikes me."  
  
Ward's blood ran cold at the mention of his family. "You don't mean Christian?" He asked.  
  
"I think so. That’s the older one right? He was on the Council when I spoke. I can see what you meant about him being an asshole, the way he looked at me you would have thought I'd totaled his Audi or something."  
  
He knew it was unreasonable, but the thought that Christian had even seen Skye's face had him holding her hand just a little bit tighter. He'd thought he'd escaped his family seven years ago when they'd shipped him here to live with Coulson and May, but now his brother had met, even interrogated, the girl he loved. He couldn't stand the idea that Skye may have just become another weapon in his brother's arsenal through no fault of her own.    
  
She must have sensed his growing anger because she squeezed his hand until he looked her in the eye. "Grant, it's okay."  
  
Except it wasn't really okay because Christian was not the head of the Boston Institute, their father was, which meant his father should have been at that hearing. He'd had no communication from his family in four years, but surely someone would have tried to contact him if his father had died, wouldn't they?  
  
Skye dropped his hand to push open the door off the library, and as much as he missed the contact, he knew that this wasn’t the time or place for them to out themselves as an item.  
  
"You two get lost or something?" Lance asked as they walked in.  
  
"Sorry, Lola wasn't letting us down the hallway until I'd given her a proper petting." Skye said. The lie was perfected by the cat slipping through the door behind them and rubbing up against Skye's leg. Trip raised an eyebrow as they sat down, but everyone else seemed to accept the excuse.  
  
Coulson hadn't been exaggerating when he said they had a lot to talk about. The finalization off Skye's adoption and her decision to become parabatai with Simmons were the first topics of conversation, which seemed to lift everyone's spirits. Once they'd established that FitzSimmons And hunter would all be staying, the conversation shifted to the Council’s decision following the hearing in Idris.  
  
"What did they say?" Bobbi asked, twisting her ring around her finger.  
  
"Then council decided that it would be in our best interests to increase our numbers for a while. The representatives from all of the east coast institutes will be asking for volunteers to come stay with us indefinitely. As of right now we don't know how many will come, or how long they'll be here. It could be two people, it could be twenty. Either way, I'm sure you'll all make them feel welcome.” There was something unsaid at the end of the sentence that had them all nodding in agreement.  
  
“So did anything exciting happen while we were gone?” Jemma asked.  
  
Ward silently willed Trip not to open his mouth, but it was to no avail. “Actually, there was one thing.” Instead of being upset like Grant had expected, Coulson seemed genuinely touched that they had gone to so much trouble for him.  
  
Bobbi took over the narrative when Trip tried to end the story prematurely. “You weren't really going to leave out the best part, were you?” Even May cracked a grin when she told them all about Raina’s flirtatious antics. Trip just groaned and pressed his face into his hands.  
  
Watching the people he cared about laugh and smile, he realized that the family he’d left behind in Boston didn’t matter — this was his family, for better or worse. The memories and affection that tied them together were stronger than any blood would ever be.  
  
They would face the future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with this story to the end. All that's left is a short epilogue. As of right now I'm in the process of mapping out a sequel to this fic, tentatively entitled "Set Me as a Seal". If you want to be alerted when that fic starts posting you can subscribe to this series or to me (or both). I would love to hear your final thoughts and requests for the sequel so please leave a comment below!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And it came to pass … that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul… Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. - 1 Samuel 18:1-3

It felt like it had been two days, not two weeks since they’d last been in Idris. Still, as Fitz looked around at the grandiose architecture of the Council Hall, he couldn’t help but be grateful that their reason for being here was a happy one. Members of the Council milled about the space as they waited for the ceremony to start, and he could see Trip across the room trying to distract Ward from glaring at his brother. He’d remained glued to Skye’s side until the last possible second before she and Jemma had run off to change into their ceremonial gear.    
  
“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” He heard Trip ask as he approached them.  
  
“The last time you and I stood in this room together we were surrounded by fire and being glared at by my father. I doubt many mundanes would include something like that in their list of favorite days.”   
Trip’s smile widened. “I guess it’s a good thing we aren’t mundanes then. They’ve got no sense of adventure anyway.”  
  
Trip’s mom had offered to look after the Institute for the day so everyone could attend the ceremony. Fitz had it on good authority that they should expect to come home to a very large supper. Good thing too, formal events always made him hungry.  
  
It was easy to pick out the rest of the D.C group since they all wore vibrant shades of red instead of the black robes of the Council members. The Consul was standing near the center of the crowd talking with Coulson while Hunter introduced Bobbi to his father on the outskirts of the room. Fitz still couldn’t figure out exactly what the two of them were to each other, and they hadn’t exactly put any sort of label on the relationship, but they seemed happy with it and that made him happy.  
  
May was standing with a larger group, listening intently as they spoke, but not offering any insight into the conversation. He found himself thinking that if he ever needed someone to keep a secret, May would be the person for the job.  
  
Trip and Ward had moved on to talking about the first time they met when the Consul started ushering people towards their seats. When the floor had been cleared, a door on the far side of the room opened and Jemma and Skye emerged in crimson gear.  
  
To begin the ceremony, they lit two circles of fire on opposite sides of the space, symbolizing their lives as individuals. A third ring blazed between the two, representing their life as a pair of warriors bonded by an old and hallowed vow. The flames licked at their ankles as they came to meet each other, but neither seemed to feel them.  
  
Skye’s new family ring glinted on her finger as she offered her arm to Jemma, whose stele began searing a new pattern onto the skin as she recited the words of the covenant.  
  
His mind flashed back to a dark basement and the tears she had shed as she said some of those same words to him. Then he thought about the Song of Solomon again and had to redirect his attentions. There would be a time and a place for those vows to, but this wasn’t it. Instead he glanced over to where Coulson stood smiling proudly at the two girls. Bobbi may or may not have shed a few tears as Jemma finished speaking, but Fitz figured she had earned a few weepy moments after having spent so long with only Trip and Ward for company.  
  
After the last words had left her mouth, Jemma put away her stele and smiled as she offered Skye her arm. Fitz thought back to the picture on his desk and smiled too, wondering if the particular smile on his girlfriend’s face was a special one she saved for new beginnings.  
  
As the flames in the room grew brighter, Skye raised her stele and let the words of the covenant ring through the cavernous hall.

Entreat me not to leave thee,

Or return from following after thee—

For whither thou goest, I will go,

And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.

Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.

Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.

The Angel do so to me, and more also,

If aught but death part thee and me.


End file.
